


Branches

by nuugibi



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, and a craving for a decent time travel fic, check back here with the posting of new chapters, firestar actually has a few issues, i got 2 hands to write, might as well make the most of it, this is just self indulgent and something i did to waste time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-17 05:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuugibi/pseuds/nuugibi
Summary: Firestar’s nine lives are ripped from him all at once by the hands of Scourge in the battle for the clans. The clans inevitably perish and under the hesitant approval of StarClan’s ancients, our protagonist is sent back to where it all began- in the past as a kittypet. Armed with nothing but nine lives that shouldn’t exist, Firestar relives his past to fix the future (and possibly more).





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t expect that much consistency in terms of references to later books ho ho, the last time i even thought about warriors was in middle school and even then i’m not willing to reread more than the first arc for this. the entire fic is completed by the way, i just have to (HEAVILY WIPES SWEAT) revise and edit so please don’t ask me to change anything major in terms of plot or writing unless it’s a typo or small inconsistency! that being said, i am first and foremost a student, so updates will be a bit sporadic! branches was written hastily and for self indulgent and time wasting reasons, haha! if you have any questions, drop me a comment! i'd love interacting with you all!

Our world isn’t a single plane

It’s more so like a tree. The biggest and scariest tree you’ve ever seen. Overarching and all-encompassing and it makes up more than the universe itself. All stems from the first moment of creation, and it branches off from there. Every little decision and every pawstep causes more and more to form until there are nothing but branches and all we see is bark and wood.

Each split is a new universe. A new time and a new space. This me isn’t the only me. 

But it’s the only one that I can feel. 

***

Dying was cold and a lot more sudden than he’d expected though he should’ve known it was approaching. Everyone dies, the entire world knows it’s dying and that the time will eventually come, yet every single death without fail is one taken in surprise. Some cats live with the expectation that death couldn’t touch them and even still the occasional battle, adder bite, monster, fall, fox, badger, dog, anything really catches them by surprise. For Firestar, it was another cat. Slowly all around him, the world spun (probably from blood loss) and the face of a little cat with dark fur and claws to rival a dog’s appeared in front of him. 

Twitch.

The expression was one of morbid curiosity. It was why cats crowded around any sort of commotion, and why his former humans would often gaze out of their monsters, staring at other dead monsters and the flashing of certain monsters with lights that screamed like sirens. 

Twitch.

Where was the healing? He should’ve been healed by now- his nine lives should have made him all better by now! 

Twitch.

Scourge sat, simply watching and waiting. Firestar could feel the burning interest in his gaze, disgusted with the feeling it left him with. He stared and held a fascination akin to a bully stepping on an ant, or killing a butterfly out of pure wonder. That fit the description of the collared fox-heart. He’d probably seen this a thousand times anyways. But the wonder was still there.

Twitch.

Sounds of battle surrounding them had begun to cease as BloodClan slowly turned the tides against the forest cats, beginning to stare at the twitching cat with their leader as Firestar’s companions slowly fall. Picked off easily in the exhaustion and distraught. His gut twisted painfully, behind the gouges raked into his stomach. 

Twitch.  
Twitch.  
Twitch. 

Please stop staring.

Twitch.  
Stillness. 

After a moment of nothing, Firestar groaned at the nosing at his pelt. When the cat had resolved to prodding him, his annoyance reached its head as he jumped up and turned to nearly slash at whoever decided to poke at his body. Instead of being met with the frustrated gaze of Scourge and tackling him to the ground, Firestar had accidentally tackled his best friend, “Oh jeez- crap- I’m sorry, man I should’ve known you’d be jumpy.”

For whatever reason he was prodding at him, Firestar didn’t care anymore. He was just relieved that he could see his companion was safe. Graystripe watched as the hairs on the other cat’s pelt slowly settled in the presence of a familiar and friendly face, anxiety dripping and falling off of him easily enough. Once the two had settled, Graystripe wrapped his tail around his friend while sitting so close to him that their sides were practically glued together, “Feel better now?” 

“Yeah. A lot. What’s going on, Graystripe? Did-” He suddenly felt a rush of excitement, “Did we win?” 

“No.” Well at least he was blunt. Firestar knew the other cat looked a little too sleek and healthy for the aftermath of battle. He felt the sudden rush of anticipation get knocked out of his body. So they were both dead. His limbs felt a little too light and his heart a little too bright anyways. They remained side by side, neither wishing to meet the other’s eyes. 

“BloodClan is taking… over the forest.” A thick swallow accompanied the next statement, “I- I think the clans are gone. Cats are popping up everywhere, way too quickly. Bluestar and the other StarClan cats are scared. Firestar they don’t know what to do, and- and what happens to StarClan when no one is there to believe in them anymore? Do you think we’re gonna-?” 

He quickly slaps his tail over Graystripe’s mouth, causing his friend to blow a tiny raspberry and spit out hairs. Wasn’t he dead now? That was too much panic for a dead cat. “Graystripe, calm down! All of your panicking is going to scare off all of the prey from here to ThunderClan.”

“But we’re in StarClan!”

“Uh, exactly.” To be perfectly fair, Firestar was even more scared than Graystripe. He was sure dying was supposed to make someone a lot smarter or cooler or at least better at handling all of the utter mouse dung StarClan had chosen to throw at them. Now they were a part of StarClan. But with no other clans to watch over. 

He really did end up just like Tigerstar, huh? Firestar internally winced, feeling just a little more pathetic than before but sucked in his self esteem for comforting Graystripe who was more in need of a good few words of reassurement, “I’m sure we’ll be fine, okay? Just… take your mind off of the living world for a second and show me around StarClan. You seem to know more about the land even if I died before you.” 

“It’s because you took your sweet time getting here.”

“Thanks Graystripe, that is literally the last thing I ever want to hear again.” At least the two seemed okay enough to be cracking jokes. Firestar took a deep breath. It’s fine. 

***

It actually wasn’t fine! The more they saw and the more cats they met, Firestar felt even more fearful of the forest they had left behind. He couldn’t remember any cats that were still alive, and the moment a name was about to fall off of his tongue, there they were. Claws sheathed and unsheathed themselves in the healthy dirt of the afterlife and the small crowds of murmuring and anxious cats had grown. Perhaps Graystripe was actually right and they were simply waiting on the calamity of the stars collapsing into themselves and erupting into a monumental destructive force that was enough to shake the very world to its core and knock it out of the sun’s sight. Or maybe he’d get a grip on himself and take a few calming and disarming breaths. In and out. 

He supposed this wasn’t a common event in StarClan as the leaders themselves whispered to themselves in hushed, worried tones, wondering about what they could possibly do. Firestar felt a small rush of ease seeing the familiar gray silver pelt of his former leader, and the lack of a large tabby pelt. If he strained his ears and trained them towards the group of leaders with enough focus, he could catch snippets and clipped pieces of the marginably audible conversation. Ancients, calling, sending, and fear were the only comprehensible bits he could hear. As Graystripe turned to him in hope, Firestar shook his head. He didn’t think any of that content was something that could be used to calm him down and opted for Graystripe to find Silverstream instead. She’d likely have more hope in mellowing the other cat down. With a hesitant nod and a gaze laced with worry, they parted ways.

Firestar padded to the circle of leaders, biting his lip as the closer he approached, the more of their panic he could feel. The fear sat and swam among them like a heavy fog or a blanket of snow, and the hot air that accompanied the talking group indicated that they had been together in this state for a good while now. Likely meaning that they held no answers either. Brilliant. 

Bluestar offered Firestar a quick comforting lick on the shoulder that was most likely intended to settle his nerves. It didn’t help, but the gesture was appreciated anyways. Instead of speaking, he listens to their debate.

“We can’t do that- the last cat we sent was scattered! Or.. so the story goes.” 

“You know that story is a load of fox dung anyways, Ivystar told me she’d asked and the ancients have never even heard of that method before! So we can’t just pull that as an option!” 

“Ivystar isn’t even here right now!”

“Ivywho?”

“Either way, I’m not lying am I?” 

“You’re all behaving like a bunch of idiotic-!” Firestar winced. Oof, he wasn’t going to find anything by staying here. He practically lived for information and knowing the drama of the clans, even if his pride would say otherwise. With that background knowledge, he knew they would probably go on squabbling for a while. He spoke to Bluestar for a few hushed moments and dipped his head in farewell. 

The soft grass of StarClan was cool and expansive, and there were patched areas of woodland, marsh, moor, and river that all of the clans would find ease hunting in. He felt his feet wanting to hunt a mouse and enjoy the land, but his stomach felt unsettled and still fresh from the wounds of his last fight. Maybe later. 

Instead he wandered, cooling down and letting the breeze hit his face in puffs. He wandered until the worry and noise of the cats behind him were long abandoned, and he walked through the practically endless forests and marshes and moors and rivers. Firestar walked until he no longer felt the grass’ soft touch, or the little tickle of the wind. Even the noises of life had ceased entirely. That was.. odd. 

“You’ve gone far from the territory your time’s cats usually stick to. Lost?” A voice sliced through the permeating silence and nearly caused Firestar to jump out of his skin with a little yelp. The rough rumble of a cat’s laughter sounded in front of him in the form of the largest cat he’d ever seen. Eyes sharp as a hawk’s and an odd mane that could put Lionheart’s to shame. Firestar sat down and embarrassingly licked the chest fur that had puffed up in startling shock. 

“Don’t act so modest, we have seen and known more than you can comprehend, a little hiccup would not change anything. Firestar, you have wandered far from home, have you not?” The massive cat held a deep voice with the quality of rumbling thunder. Firestar’s mind briefly flickered to an old story he, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw would settle inside the elder’s den to listen to in exchange for cracking a few fleas in the meantime. As if it were actually that easy.

“It very much can be that easy if we wish it to be so.” He was less sure of his doubts now. This massive cat had seemingly read his thoughts and voiced them aloud with his voice of thunder and delivery as unexpected as lightning. Another she-cat, limbs rippling with muscle and spots moving to sit next to the large golden cat had flicked her impossibly long tail at Firestar, appearing out of nowhere. Soon two more cats had joined them, and suddenly he was feeling awkward being the only tiny cat in the presence of four looming souls. Tinier than usual at least. 

“This is the fire?”

“It seems so.” 

“Go on, speak up, kit. What is your title.” 

Firehe- Firestar gulped thickly and felt his mouth dry, “Firestar, former leader of ThunderClan and former kittypet.” Why did he add on that kittypet part-?! Stupid, stupid-

“Your internal monologue is not helping your situation here, Firestar. What is it that you are seeking from us? I’m asking purely out of courtesy though, we obviously know what you wish to ask- you seem clever enough to know we are ancient beings in this plane.” 

“Then why not tell outright rather than engage in silly conversation with a modern kitten?” It was slightly frustrating but nerve-wracking to watch the faces of these powerful cats. They held answers and power and knowledge and practically the world within themselves, crammed like leaves on a bush yet not one leaf would fall. He wished StarClan could give him the instant mental stability and facade of control and coolness other StarClan cats would appear to hold when visiting his dreams. 

Well, no that may not be all that true. Firestar recalled Bluestar’s anxious look and the uneasy conversation among leaders and other groups of cats, the rapidly growing population waking to see other cats as perturbed as they were. He dug his sheathed toes into the hard dirt below them, 

“In a sense, we wish to judge and understand you. Intense it sounds, but the most close to the truth I can convey.” 

Reluctantly nodding, Firestar soon let the questions spill out in a stream, “What is happening to StarClan? Is there need for worry? What will happen to BloodClan and the future of the clans after this-?” 

A darkened look passed over one of the cats, a large black pelted one with green eyes that practically stared through him, “StarClan is the final resting place of all Clans. We make our decisions in an effort to guide the living through their course. StarClan itself will hold together but… well, it’s residents may not.” His insides felt cold and still.

“What do you mean…?” 

“StarClan can’t recieve all of these spirits at once, and some are being scattered and lost-” 

Firestar remembered the words of the other leaders while standing among them, their panicked concerns of cats being scattered, and the story of one having done so already. Supposedly, at least according to… well… he’d just heard it somehow?

“Their souls are being lost to time and space, scattered and shattered apart until no memory remains of them left. No trace of a cat having lived here, like leaves falling off of their branches. Even we forget their existence and the sea of those shards lie in the back of our brains, flooding. Soon we also may soon be scattered and faded, existence lost to StarClan itself and where we will go, no one knows.

“If the clans end, lost to time itself, perhaps things would be different. But all has suddenly been wiped out, quick and methodical like monsters and hawks. These lands are growing increasingly unstable and soon it will-” collapse into themselves and erupt into a monumental destructive force that’s enough to shake the very world to its core and knock it out of the sun’s sight, just like he exaggerated earlier oh StarClan- 

“No. Shut up. Not like that.” Oh thank- “Worse.”

Firestar elected to shut up for a good while. Nice decision. “Soon all of the cats of StarClan will slowly grow forgotten, faded and scattered across timelines and universes. It begins slow, like a name and a title, and consumes quickly like a wildfire. With the founders of StarClan slowly becoming nonexistent, you should likely know the rest. It’s already begun.”

“You- you’re powerful and all-seeing spirits, though. Isn’t there anything you could possibly do? Any hope to bring?” Firestar’s panicked voice cracked slightly. Even in death there was so much fear and uncertainty. What was the point of living it it just amounted to this? What was even the point of talking to these ancient cats if they would soon become powerless and faded to time as well? Wouldn’t it just be better to remain ignorant while dissolving into nothing but white noise in a pool of other random sounds?

“But why else would we be speaking to you?” 

Ah yes. Because even in the face of death death, that’s death times two, Firestar couldn’t catch a single breath. But he was thankful to quite practically jump at the opportunity, “I’ll do anything.”

“Even risk being pulled apart by the Laws of Being themselves?” 

“Even that.” It helps that he didn’t even know that the heck those laws were. 

With a long eye to eye inspection under four inscrutable gazes, the lion-like (or maybe even full lion) cat reluctantly flicked his tail, “Jump onto me, then. We do not have a lot of time to explain everything. We will speak while we run.” Firestar awkwardly jumped onto the cat’s broad back and clung on tightly, putting all of his focus on not falling off while the four cats bounded with a velocity to rival that of a monster’s. 

“We live on a plane of existence that can only be comparable to a tree. Every decision we make is a splitting branch, one for what we choose to do and the rest of the branches for every other possibility that we choose to ignore. You lie at the base of a sizable amount of these branches, yet we are unable to discern the reason for such an anomaly.

“Well, at least we were. You are a center for many of the major decisions that relate to this world, and your actions echo through the forest, eons after your eventual departure. Whether it be a small decision such as what to eat today, or a decision so large, the tree of existence itself may as well grow another trunk. Such as the decision to leave the forest. I am personally.. unsure of the decision to send you back in time, as are the others. The situation itself may not change or may even multiply. There is always a point where one knows too much for their mind to hold. But there is no other choice.

“And eventually, all trees burn down. Soon the clans will be nothing but distant ash in the wind, however there is a reason why we sent the clans your prophecy. Your relationships in the forest are crucial to the survival of these clans and their spirits. And so we… reluctantly ask you to make a journey for us, outside of time and space. Even outside of the guidance and gaze of StarClan itself. How do you feel about time travel?” 

“Terrible.”

“Amazing. Well, we are here.” A shaky step Firestar attempted to descend from the large back turned into a messy stumble, growing into a tumble onto the cold stone floor. He didn’t know how to feel and held a swirling and fearful churning of trepidation inside of him, it filled his lungs and eyes, stomach and mind. What was a cat supposed to do with the knowledge that every decision he made could possibly alter the fate of the forest? His breathing quickened and a phantom pain crept up his gut, and he snapped his gaze down in search of gouging claw marks that weren’t there. 

“Calm down, this panic will lead you nowhere other than ruin. Act on the advice of those you trust and your own judgement, and things will likely fall into place. You are not a terrible cat, just hold weight into your own wisdom.” But Firestar wasn’t wise. He led the clans into total ruin. He accidentally caused the deaths of many. And now it was possibly his fault that the skies themselves would soon find their bodies devoid of stars. It sickened and scared him. Shoulders heavy with burden and fear, the lightning’s clap of voice pierced their surroundings once more. 

“Stay with us, Firestar. Tell me, do you trust our judgement?”

“I… I want to.” 

“Then do so. You will be fine. Pick those paws up and hold your head high, kit. You are a leader are you not? Lead us into existence.” A large muzzle prodded his side and Firestar tentatively responded to the touch, nodding. 

It’s okay. He can do it. Just remember and make it right this time. Breathe in and breathe out. 

He was going to go back home and make sure everything went okay. 

“You don’t have a lot of time and you are definitely not going to want to trust us, but you are going to have to. Inside this cave is a lake of water as blue as the sky itself. Step into it and let yourself sleep. When you wake up, it’ll be in another time. Specifically the beginning of your prophecy, as they are the only tethers StarClan makes to the living world.” 

He wanted to protest but held it back. They seemed to at least resemble a sense of security and confidence, which was about a million times more than what he was feeling at the moment, so he swallowed past his dry and tightened throat and looked back and forth between the mouth of stone and the four wildcats in front of him. “Wait!” One of the ancient cats bounded forward and set their nose to Firestar’s forehead filling him with a certain type of warmth, “I had nearly forgotten something. You’ll know what it is sooner or later.” Firestar nodded warily. It was fine, this was fine. It really wasn’t, but he could trick himself into thinking it was. A quick okay and he was running and jumping into the freezing waters before he had the chance to regret his decisions. 

“Good luck, kit.”

Firestar sank like a deadweight and closed his eyes.

***

He woke up slowly and stretched before freezing at the haunting jingle of name tags and collar metal. 

When the ancient cats had said the beginning of the prophecy, he didn’t expect that to be this far in the past! Firest- Rusty clawed and pawed at the annoying strap in hopes of tearing it off, however to no avail. Distantly, the sound of tasteless and dry pellets hitting the inside of a bowl resonated in the kitchen. Rather than waste any time eating, he stepped outside into the night air. 

“Rusty, have you been messing with your collar again?” Dear StarClan what a voice he hadn’t expected to hear again. 

“Smudge!” He rubbed his face on the other kitten’s pelt excitedly, happy to see his old friend. The black and white cat snorted, giving him a confused but appeased look. Smudge was someone he had missed, regretting not visiting him more and wishing that things may have been different and Smudge had been born a clan cat. He took advantage of the time he could get, though.

“I know I’m wonderful and everything, but you’re acting like you haven’t seen me in years. We haven’t even been alive for that long.” Rusty definitely knew that well enough, missing his strong limbs and stamina already. 

“Oh, uh, well there’s never too much affection.” Smudge laughed at the messy reason but let it pass anyways. The two sat on top of the garden’s fence for a quiet moment. 

“Rusty, no offence or anything, but your face is super intense and it’s honestly scaring me a little. What’s wrong?” Oh. He hadn’t even realized he was thinking that much. But the question provided enough of the opening he needed. 

“Promise not to freak out on me.”

 

“I promise?” 

“I’m thinking about joining those forest cats. You know, the ones we hear about in stories around the neighborhood.” He was actually dead set on joining those forest cats and his claws were eager to sink into the natural soft earth of the woodlands past the borders. Smudge would likely jump out of his pelt if Rusty managed to spill more than the bare truth, though. More than he already was, at least. 

“I’m taking my earlier statement back. You can’t be serious. Rusty, you know what we’ve heard! It’s dangerous!” He nearly cried out, fixing a look of disbelief onto his friend.

“Smudge, you’ll always be my friend, but I need to feel that freedom and I want to live without having any regrets of not taking that opportunity while I could. I don’t want to end up like Henry!” 

“I- Henry is cool!”

“We were always talking about how boring he was, you and I both know that’s not true! Please, I don’t want to leave behind any bad blood between us. I was really happy getting to know you and being your friend.” He pleaded, wondering why this wasn’t going as smoothly as last time. Smudge looked as if he were stricken and took a few good moments to think before he sighed in acceptance. They both knew that once Rusty had put his mind to something, he was nonstop.

“At least let me help you with your collar. It’ll jingle and scare everything away while you’re out there.” He licked his friend’s shoulder in gratitude and affection while Smudge worked on using his teeth to snap the pesky item off. Eventually with a click, the strap had fallen off and Rusty shook his pelt, happy to be freed of the collar. Smudge wound tightly around him and whispered a quick good luck before disappearing back into his nest. No amount of calling would bring him back out.

Rusty sighed and quietly gave Smudge his wishes before gazing back into the forest. 

He needed to save his clans.

***

Rusty felt that it was almost too easy, integrating himself back into the clan under the gaze of Bluestar, Whitestorm, and Lionheart. Even the little battle between him and Graypaw passed as quickly as before. Maybe everything would just pass along easily? No, not that easily.

He couldn’t get cocky, though. A misstep could prove fatal and it wasn’t as if he could keep going back to redo his mistakes. Even if that were the case, he didn’t think his mind would be able to handle it. Rusty quickly shook his pelt back out and passed through the bracken that composed the camp’s entrance. He was eager to see the camp and its members. He nearly lost it a few hours earlier, when Lionheart jumped into view next to Bluestar. He hadn’t seen the former deputy in ages and was honestly on the verge of sobbing like a kit, but at the last minute played it off as fear and intimidation. It worked well enough.

They arrived just like last time, during sunhigh when the cats of the clan gathered together and groomed one another, sharing tongues. Lionheart and Whitestorm lead him around the camp, Rusty happy to finally be in a familiar location that was dear to him, but after seeing the raised eyebrow of Whitestorm, he awkwardly smiled, not knowing what else to do. The tom laughed, but Rusty’s chest caved in slightly. He couldn’t afford to do something incomprehensible, or let on anything that indicated his displacement in time. If he did something weird and lost the trust of his clan, where would that leave them next? 

So, no confiding. At least not yet. 

Bluestar called the clan meeting quickly enough, and Rusty winced at the future of his fight. What would happen now? 

… Well actually, apparently nothing. 

“You look like a brand of fire in this sunlight.” Her eyes flashed briefly, and for once, Rusty knew what she was referring to. 

“From this day forward, until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be called Firepaw, in honor of his flame-colored coat.” She nodded at Firepaw and he smiled shakily, turning to face the rest of the clan. They were unsure, doubt and worry swimming in their gazes as the everknown whispers of kittypet echoed in the air. Firepaw’s face betrayed no emotion other than forceful determination.

Underneath of that was pure fear. 

Once the ceremony was over, there was no greetings or cheering like the last ceremony. Instead, the clearing held a tense and awkward hush that Firepaw was all too familiar with yet completely unexpected to. Graypaw congratulated him on the name anyways, “Hey, nice name! I’ll finish that tour of the camp that Whitestorm and Lionheart started this time, if you want. Don’t mind the rest of the clan, they all have sticks up their-”

“Graypaw, what were you about to say just now?!” The gray tabby nearly blanched completely. The angry voice came from Willowpelt, his mother. She had the hearing of a rabbit apparently. 

“N-nothing, mom I just-” 

“Just nothing! Come back over here right now, Graypaw!” She nearly snapped, but the motherly endearment held underneath of her words and interactions with her kit. Firepaw snickered at his friend. Apprentice or warrior, he’d always be his mother’s son. He was happy for the quiet moment, though. There was no need for the tour, anyways, seeing as he spent many moons living in this camp in the past. Or was it future…? The timeline mixing itself up has nearly given Firepaw a large headache. Rather than attempting to sort that mess out, he padded into the apprentice’s den for a quick reprieve from the suspicious gazes of clanmates he’d have to work to regain the trust of. Thankfully no one was inside. He couldn’t bear the hostile glares of Sandstorm and Dustpelt again.

Inside, he was able to think. He was in the past and he had a clear opportunity to sort out the mess he’d made, but the first thing to think about was addressing his clan. Obviously there was a larger backlash to Bluestar’s integration of a kittypet into the clan, he’d have to work twice as hard and bring back twice as much prey and befriend twice as many cats if he wished to earn their friendliness and trust back. He couldn't handle their stares, he really couldn't. 

But how had he lost it in the first place? Think, he had to have done something. 

Think long and hard, and carefully. 

… wait. Smudge taking his collar off! He was careless in how he said his goodbyes to his friend, and as a result he didn’t have a fight with Longtail about that stupid blue collar! So he couldn’t prove himself in front of his clanmates. 

Firepaw internally winced. Such a small item caused a large repercussion. He’d have to be even more careful in the future. Stick to the timeline and tread lightly, and he’d be fine. Don’t make any dramatic mistakes and the clans would live. He’s fine, they’re still okay. 

“Firepaw you look like you’re going to burn a hole in the wall of the den. Are you sure you’re good right now?” Graypaw gave him a once over with a curious look. Firepaw jumped, startled at the interruption and laughed shakily.

“Of course, you just scared me for a second there. What’ve you got?” Graypaw relaxed at the answer and held up a mouse proudly in his teeth.

“Got something for us to share! Scoot over, would you?” Firepaw snorted and made space in the moss next to him. His friend plopped into the moss and dropped the mouse, nodding at Firepaw to take the first bite, “Go on, you said you’ve never had fresh mouse before, right? Or any prey really. I’m letting you know ahead of time that this was a serious decision on my part.” He laughed and took a bite of the mouse, elated to finally eat something as the last time he had eaten was just about ages ago. Or at least, a really long time travelling trip ago. 

“I’ll introduce you to the elders soon, it’s too late for anything like training today, and you haven’t been taught how to properly hunt yet. You know, I think One-eye would like you a lot-”

A distant yowl interrupted the moment between the two and the apprentices jumped up, alert. 

“Smallear smells trouble, come on!” They raced into the clearing where a growing group of cats gathered in confusion. A single jet black cat with a distinctive marking raced through the camp’s entrance and into view. Oh, Ravenpaw.. 

Graypaw gasped beside him, “That’s Ravenpaw! Why is he alone? Where’s Tigerclaw?” Firepaw nearly scrunched his face in rage at the slightest mention of the name but quelled his anger like a rising storm behind his confused facade. 

“Who are Ravenpaw and Tigerclaw?” He took the time Graypaw used to explain for contemplation. Soon Tigerclaw would come into the picture, and Firepaw would have to think of any way possible to prevent beating the large tabby into a pulp. Most importantly, how to keep Ravenpaw safe and feeling secure in his own clan. He seemed happy with Barley at the farm in the past timeline, yet… Firepaw missed him. As selfish as it was, he was sure Ravenpaw could stay once he saw how much his friends supported him. 

There’s also the fact that Redtail was dead and soon Bluestar would have to promote a new deputy- Lionheart. He’d watch the other cat like a hawk if if meant preventing Tigerclaw’s rise to power in the clan. For now, there was a bigger looming issue that Firepaw had forgotten about in the commotion of taking a trip into the past and imagining other possible scenarios of the battle for the clans. 

What to do about the knowledge of death. 

Firepaw hesitated and shook the idea from his pelt. That entailed far too much for him to handle at the moment. When he pulled his attention from his thoughts, Graypaw had stopped talking in favor of listening to Ravenpaw’s story and the shaky apprentice himself had soon passed out in his blood loss and exhaustion. 

Just like in the last timeline, he followed the jet black tom into the medicine cat’s den. 

***

“Hey, Firepaw! Wake up!” Firepaw scrunched his nose, twitching his tail in annoyance as he pressed his face into the moss. Eventually he got up and glared at the source of his waking. 

“Whoa, didn’t expect you to actually get up that fast, but that works too. Come on, Tigerclaw and Lionheart are waiting for us in the sandy hollow. Training begins at sunrise and Dustpaw and Sandpaw are already up!” Firepaw huffed at the hurry but rand alongside Graypaw to where the two warriors sat, one clearly more annoyed than the other. 

Firepaw couldn’t help but notice Tigerclaw’s odd… twitchiness. Had he gained some of his apprentice’s jumpy nature without realizing it? He nearly snorted, now that wasn’t something he noticed the first time around. Instead he remained eager to begin practice, but slightly dreaded the lessons of information that he’d already learned before. At least Lionheart was with them that day, his lighter personality balancing out the urge Firepaw held to rip his own fur out the moment he saw Tigerclaw. All of this stress and death amounting to nine lives ripped from the body all at once in the end. 

Firepaw wasn’t sure if he was talking about Tigerclaw or himself at that moment. 

Tigerclaw angrily snapped, “I expect you both to be punctual in the future.” 

*** 

Firepaw felt that his first lesson passed easily enough. He nearly hyperventilated, breathing choking at the mention of Fourtrees however he was able to keep it under control. He was here to prevent that, the world didn’t know about that yet. It hadn’t happened yet.

(It had to him, though.)

The presence of the Thunderpath kept him alert, yet he hadn’t cowered at the passing of monsters or their hot stench. He hadn’t even blinked. Lionheart led him away with his tail and continued the tour. Firepaw wasn’t sure if there was anything he should’ve done differently that time. Regardless, another day had passed, meaning they were another day closer to the beginning of complication. Enjoyment was brief and the burden of future pressed and sliced its little nails into his back and into his footsteps. It was okay, Firepaw would be better this time around. 

Upon return to the camp, Firepaw had decided to stay awake alongside the moon and care for the elders in exchange for their stories. He should have listened to more of them while he was still an apprentice, they held old tales he wouldn’t be able to hear again until he was back in StarClan, hopefully a good time after the battle. 

In fact, he barely knew a sizable amount of the camp, didn’t he? 

He held regrets but… well, there was no shame in getting to know ThunderClan even better. 

“A full moon tonight, kit. Tell me young Firepaw, are you going to the Gathering tonight?” Halftail asked the little apprentice while he was set to work, changing bedding and cracking fleas when he could find them. The ginger in mention shook his head. 

“Well of course he’s not attending, practically right out of the nursery that one is! Even Ravenpaw wasn’t that small during his nursery days. It’s probably because of that darned kittypet blood. Well that, and the Gathering patrol had already left ages ago.” Smallear scoffed, but Firepaw noticed the elder was careful not to actually display outright malice. He could respect that enough. After properly finishing off the last of the bedding, Firepaw shook his pelt of stray moss and such. 

“That should be it, I’m getting some mouse bile from Spottedleaf, so I’ll be-” Dappletail rolled her eyes, shooing the young apprentice out of the den. He was surprised to see the other elders snorting behind her, chuckling at the antics of their denmate. 

“Thank you for the bedding, but you’re practically asleep on your feet, kit. Do all of us a real favor and take a nap. The Gathering can wait, I’m sure one of your apprentice friends should be able to tell you about the details later. Just get some rest.” Firepaw felt his chest fur puff up slightly in embarrassment and nodded, “Thank you Dappletail, I will.” 

A few shared goodbyes later and he walked out of the elder’s den and into the apprentice’s den. Graypaw was probably in Spottedleaf’s den, talking to Ravenpaw, Firepaw figured. He rested his head on a bed of moss and let the fatigue of the past few days out in a long sigh. There will always be another day. 

Just like the next, when the two crept out of the den early before Sandpaw and Dustpaw to mess with the duo. Firepaw lit up slightly, seeing Ravenpaw finally out and about. It soon dawned on him that he hadn’t even introduced himself yet, and that was probably something important to do before he went on treating the world like it were his best friend. 

“Ravenpaw, right? Graypaw told me about you, I’m Firepaw.” Score! Okay, that was perfect! 

“Oh, uh, hey.” Well, it was a start. He didn’t immediately expect everything to just click into place but they’d work at it. Meanwhile, there was a lesson to catch. 

“What is the difference between stalking a mouse and a rabbit?” Firepaw let someone else take this question, if he had to hear this one more time, he may just catch a mouse himself to prove his point. 

Luckily, Graypaw filled those shoes, “A rabbit hears you before it feels you, and a mouse feels you before it smells you?” Lionheart purred in approval, causing the apprentice to practically glow in pride. 

“Exactly Graypaw! So what do we bear in mind when stalking mice?” 

“Tread lightly!” Another rumble of approval. Nothing from Tigerclaw yet. The tabby actually stepped in himself, however. 

“Let’s try this out for ourselves now. Firepaw, show us a hunting crouch.” Lionheart gave the other cat a curious stare. For what reason, Firepaw didn’t really want to waste any time by figuring that out. Instead he performed just as he would any other day, crouching into his usual hunting stance and using a leaf as a poor excuse of a mouse. Scooping the thing up and biting it proudly, he turned around to face the blank faces of his mentors and companions. 

What was the matter with them? Firepaw blinked and set the leaf on the ground, confused. 

Lionheart cleared his throat, “Looks like we have a little hunting prodigy in our midst! We didn’t even have to show you the hunting stance beforehand!” Firepaw felt that familiar caving feeling in his gut and laughed as naturally as he could manage. Another slip up? Come on Firepaw, you’re better than this! Shape up! Get that mind out of the clouds! 

“Beginner’s luck I suppose.” He grinned, feeling a small wave of relief pass over him when Lionheart nodded, insisting that the group practice the hunting crouch for a while longer after that. 

Firepaw took extra caution in making his efforts sloppy before improving slightly throughout the day. Not drastically enough for it to become suspicious, however. He’d just have to focus on making himself look like an average beginning apprentice after that. His sharp claws dug into the earth and resheathed themselves several times. Everything had to move smoothly and perfectly and things would be okay. The ancient cats had said so, so it must be true. Firepaw shook himself out and rather focused on the good things about the day instead. He felt just the littlest bit closer to Ravenpaw after the same incident during training, defending him from the scrutiny of his mentor. And he’d finally been able to catch prey for the clan. Not too much though, not yet. He couldn’t try and match the levels of a hunter such as Sandpaw yet, he’d likely raise suspicion. 

Every act was carried out deliberately, carefully, and with meaning. He stepped with purpose and felt the weight behind his trail. Someday he’d lead the clans into his doom, so he’d have to do anything in his power to prevent that. Even if it meant facing the menace one on one. Not yet, though. 

He still had a long way to go. 

During his increasing frequency of deep thought sessions, Whitestorm dropped a mouse in front of his face with a small nod, “I heard good things about you today from Lionheart, keep it up, okay?” Firepaw smiled and thanked the warrior, a bit surprised that he’d noticed and had come out of his private shell to praise him. Whitestorm had always been a cat that was a bit withdrawn, yet as an apprentice, warrior, and leader, Firepaw enjoyed spending time with him whether it be light conversation or thought out advice between the two. It may take a bit of time to regain that level of connection again, but he wanted to keep that little relationship from his old life, the same as he wanted to establish the new ones among other cats in the clan that he hadn’t thought to before. 

Speaking of relationships… 

“Graypaw, you said you were hunting tomorrow, right?” 

“Huh? Yeah, why?” 

“Do you mind if I come with you?”

“Well duh, you didn’t need to ask. Where do you want to go?” 

Fireheart gave it a second of thought. Where had they gone last time? 

“How about near the ShadowClan border?” 

The last time he had met Yellowfang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXTREMELY LONG ENDNOTE HERE, SKIP IF YOU LIKE IT HAS NOTHING IMPORTANT, i was considering shipping but i can’t decide which route i want to take with this so right now i’m going with the flow. even if shipping were larger than a background component, we’re putting full focus on the plot here. i actually wrote this because i’m always a sucker for time travel, but also because the time travel fics i’ve read so far in this fanbase have been sort of um. lackluster? not to talk mine up of course- this fic is a pure time waster fic i wrote in between classes and when i was looking for some pure self-indulgence, but there were certain things that i was looking for that just didn’t happen in some fics- and i’m not talking nitpicky things either. some warriors stories would entail a trip to the past, however there were many missed plot opportunities. why send a cat into the past if they weren’t even going to change anything at all? and rereading the same warriors text over and over and over again had become tiring. a time travel fic is no excuse to recopy the original source test of the novels- that’s lazy!! the characters would become gods or something, because they wouldn’t face any issues or problems regarding the choices they’ve made (internally or externally), and the timeline would somehow magically correct itself without even addressing the fact that it could even do so? i enjoyed Cinderfire16’s fics on ff.net actually (despite a few instances of relying on source text), for the new relationships and opportunities their fireheart took advantage of in his life, and certain relationships i want to explore are actually in reference to them. it’s not necessarily a time travel fic- rusty is a housecat that had lived through the warrior’s arcing timeline in dreams, and wakes up back at the beginning- looking to regain that life he has yet to actually live. and is surprised to see things so similar but so different! the series is called “Just a Dream” I’d check it out! there are certain relationships and concepts i’m using in here that are a direct reference to their stories. with that, ends my SUPER LONG END NOTE! drop a comment if you enjoyed and i'll try to update as quickly as possible!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWZERS, another chapter after almost a week. now that the weekend is here i can finally afford to relax just a little and keep up with writing fics and making fanart (i might link them later, depending on how i feel about it the next morning lol).  
> so i'm sure you've noticed that this chapter is significantly shorter than the last! sorry about that but i decided while editing that rather than cramming in as much information possible at once, spreading it out over a few chapters would be a better course of action (considering that when i write and revise 7000+ word chapters, things tend to get rushed and i don't feel satisfied with the end result. reminder that i have no beta or anything so this is mostly a big ol hurdle considering ive never written multichapter fics before. i've planned them but never get past one or two chapters oof.  
> so without further ado, chapter two! ALSO GUESS WHO LEARNED HOW TO ITALICIZE HOOH

Just as before, the glowing eyes of Yellowfang tracked Firepaw’s movements from across the Thunderpath. He knew the bitter old girl’s scent like the back of his paw and he missed the cranky medicine cat despite her prickly nature. Their eyes made brief contact before his hunting companion, Graypaw, hissed at him to get off of the Thunderpath. 

“You mouse-brained idiot! Get off of the path before you’re squashed into crowfood!” The voice accompanied ball of gray fur shoved into his side, barreling both of them into the forest grass and away from the roar of monsters. Firepaw pursed his lips tightly and spit the dirt out of his mouth. Gross. 

Looking back into the forest he sighed disappointedly, noting that Yellowfang had retreated out of sight once more. He wasn’t too concerned however, Firepaw knew she’d show up sooner or later. As he smoothed out his fur and helped Graypaw remove the various twigs and leaves stuck in said fur while being reprimanded by his friend, the ginger purred a short farewell as Graypaw was intent on joining the next patrol. Instead of following him, Firepaw decided to hunt for ThunderClan for a while longer. There was never too much fresh kill in the pile, anyways. 

That, and Yellowfang had attacked him while he was hunting. Or wait- did he actually follow Graypaw to the patrol? He wished that there was an easier way to possibly keep track record of his memories. 

Firepaw held a burning in his gut, antsy to see the silver-tongued medicine cat soon. There was a building anticipation to speak with the cat and though he knew this would eventually become yet another friendship he’d have to build from scratch, the apprentice was eager to do so. 

They were close, and Firepaw would constantly pester her for advice or information about her life. He was a prodding and pushy kitten, but Yellowfang had managed Cinderpelt easily enough. 

There was a lot more advice he’d need to ask of her in this timeline anyways. 

Sniffing the various woodland scents and picking out the occasional trail of mouse, Firepaw set himself on stalking his prey, creeping closer and closer. 

Before swiping his paw towards the little creature, the loud hiss of another cat bowling over the small patch of grass nearly shocked him out of his pelt. Pelt tangled and mangy, and scars littering the flesh like leaves on the forest’s floor. A she-cat permeating the air thick with the scent of sickness and exhaustion heaved in front of Firepaw, body of a stolen mouse dangling between her jaws. 

Ah, Yellowfang. Always the clever one. 

Firepaw sat back while Yellowfang practically ignored him in favor of her food, though sparing him a few suspicious glances. Loud and sloppy eating noises accompanied her as she practically inhaled the mouse. He cringed. At least this way, Firepaw shouldn’t be punished for betraying his clan by feeding an outsider. He could excuse the mouse scent for the cat hunting before he’d found her. Soon enough, the mouse was completely devoured and the rogue’s eyes held mirthful curiosity while inspecting Firepaw.

“This little ThunderClan apprentice sits back while letting me eat his territorty’s prey? Bluestar has either recruited traitors or kittypets.” Yellowfang sneered, curling her lip while licking the whiskers around her mouth. Firepaw growled, annoyed at his former (or future) medicine cat. 

“I’ve picked the maggot in the meat haven’t I? You’re a little _kittypet!_ ” She wheezed a tired and rattling laugh, mocking in nature, “Your clan has grown soft and desperate.”

A small indignant mewl replied in protest, “We are not desperate!” 

“Tell that to the state of your pelt. Defensive kit, if the fur on your back rose any more all of your hair would fall out.” Yellowfang snorted, licking a clawed toe carefully. Her very air and tone of voice echoed nonchalance and disinterest, yet her stiff and pained posture said otherwise. She was on edge.

The smell of a patrol unexpectedly began to grow in the air, caught in the wind as Yellowfang sprung to her feet, barely concealing the hiss of frustration and pain that had accompanied the sudden action, “A patrol! Thanks for the meal, kittypet, but I’m not waiting around here to be attacked by actual competent warriors.” 

Firepaw caught her by the hind legs and tripped the dark cat before she could manage to scrabble into the distance, spitting words between foul smelling hairs, “Oh no you don’t, Yellowfang. You’re staying right here until the patrol catches up to us!” Hearing this, Yellowfang began to struggle, frustrated. 

“Hey- hey I’m serious, kit! I could uh, claw your eyes out!” She scowled and kicked Firepaw’s stomach with her hindpaws, regaining her stance and swiping towards his face with unsheathed paws. Their struggle continued for a brief moment, exchanging scratches yet both noting that the other was holding back. Yellowfang never aimed to hurt anyone who could avoid it, and frankly Firepaw held too much empathy to hurt his old friend from the last timeline. Her sides heaved painfully and after a particularly winding blow, she fell on the ground, plopping with a grunt.

Staring at Yellowfang on the forest floor, Firepaw cheekily tilted his head, “Then why haven’t you?” 

Yellowfang hesitated. After a few moments she let out a resigned huff and turned her head away, occasionally shooting Firepaw brief looks of annoyance. 

Soon enough the patrol found the two cats, jumping in while the rogue and apprentice were squabbling. Bluestar and Willowpelt exchanged bemused expressions before Bluestar cleared her throat, causing Firepaw to nearly jump out of his pelt. She held back from rolling her eyes, even as a kittypet he should have scented the patrol by now, “What is the meaning of this, Firepaw? An enemy warrior - and a recently fed one at that, according to the scent?” 

The cat in question laughed awkwardly, thank god Firepaw had a legitimate excuse this time, “I was starting to hunt when I found this cat eating a mouse on our territory. We fought, but she was too weak to run or fight back.” Hopefully his excuse hadn’t sounded too wobbly or weak. Bluestar sniffed closely before sitting back, seemingly satisfied that Firepaw hadn’t carried the scent of recently eaten prey. 

Darkstripe sent Tigerclaw a side eye’d glance, muttering, “Once a soft kittypet, always a kittypet.” He seemed eager for a response and visibly deflated when unprovided with one. Odd, but Firepaw’s seen how Darkstripe acts and is entirely unsurprised by the near hero worship. Instead Tigerclaw sent Firepaw a short hiss, “You do understand the clan comes first, right, kittypet? What reason do you have for keeping this enemy here while-?” 

He was cut off by the lift of Bluestar’s tail and a stopping glance. ThunderClan’s leader inspected Yellowfang, padding around her until she seemed to find what she was looking for, “Well well, Firepaw. You seem to have captured us a ShadowClan cat- and one I know all too well! How is life treating you Yellowfang, medicine cat of ShadowClan? You’re awful far from your own camp.” She held a look that bordered on sassy.

From the ground behind him, Firepaw heard an irritated nag, “You have eyes, Bluestar. Cut the mousecrap. I left on my own accord, ShadowClan is no home to me.” There was a moment of surprise that rifled through the patrol of ThunderClan cats before Darkstripe hissed. Graypaw poked his head in through the brush of plants to view the situation, finally catching up to the patrol, and assessed the situation before deciding that he wanted to stay and watch the commotion.

“This mangy old she-cat is no use to us, we should just take her out now and save her the misery.” Dear StarClan, Firepaw was relieved that he avoided any mentions of punishment so far. Bluestar calmly shot down Darkstripe and continued to extend Yellowfang escort to the camp.

“Can you walk?”

“I’ve still got three good legs, might as well put them to good use.” A flicker of respect from Bluestar and the patrol returned home. Graypaw fell into step with Firepaw near the back, trailing behind the older cats, “So like… what’d I miss?” 

***

Small crowds of cats met the group when they returned, curious faces aimed at the unfamiliar addition to the patrol. Yellowfang held herself with dignity and disregarded any hostility or insults, even while carrying a nasty limp. Firepaw admired her tenacity as Bluestar quietly consulted her senior warriors on what to do with the former medicine cat. 

Speaking of which, Spottedleaf approached Yellowfang, bearing herbs, “I’ve noticed your injuries, is-?” 

“I know more than you.”

Spottedleaf blinked at the bluntness and dropped the herbs by Yellowfang’s side, “Okay, then.” 

Satisfied, Yellowfang began to tend to her own wounds, chewing herbs and making poultices while making quick work of applying them to herself. Making eye contact with Firepaw, she scanned him critically leaving him with a feeling of quiet judgement. Apparently she was perfectly content and beckoned him over with the subtle fick of a tail. 

Position-wise, she was stretching awkwardly in an attempt to apply herbs to the back of her shoulders. A struggling voice mewled, “Hey, kit. Do me a solid and chew those herbs right there into a poultice. I’ve got a scratch I can’t reach and it’s infuriating.” 

He nodded quietly and did so, mildly wincing at the bitter taste of the leaves and licking them into her pelt, wincing even more because of the dirty state of her fur. Yellowfang let out a satisfied grunt and let herself rest. After a moment she raised an eyelid, “What’re you still doing here? Scram.”

At the same time, Bluestar returned to the Highrock and announced a short meeting, capturing the attention of several cats grooming each other for sunhigh. Eyeing the crowd, Firepaw scampered across the clearing to bowl into an unsuspecting Graypaw and Ravenpaw, instantly knocking the two over. Graypaw briefly complained about how he’d just gotten his pelt to look just right while Ravenpaw looked like he wanted to giggle. 

He looks like he’s doing okay today. He let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“I’m sure you all have heard about the prisoner we brought back with us today.” Bluestar began, “But there is something else you should know. Can you hear me from down there?” The comment was aimed at Yellowfang, who was seated a small distance away from the Highrock.

“I may be old, but I’m not deaf yet!” She spat in response. Ignoring this, Bluestar continued to speak.

“I’m afraid I have some very grave news. Today I traveled with a patrol into WindClan territory. The air was filled with the scent of ShadowClan. Almost every tree had been sprayed by ShadowClan warriors, and we met no WindClan cats though we journeyed deep into their heartland.” 

After a moment, Smallear decided to break the silence, “So, does this mean that ShadowClan has chased Windclan out?” Multiple cries of confusion and question erupted following the comment until eventually Bluestar called for quiet. Firepaw grimaced at the memory of his previous journey to WindClan, seeing the remnants of battle and the abandoned WindClan camp sending him eerie chills. Hopefully he’d be able to resolve that issue faster this time around, no clan should or had ever been driven out of their territory.

“We can’t be sure. We have seen signs of a struggle, blood and fur, yet no bodies. As it is, all we know is that recently ShadowClan appointed a new leader following the death of their previous leader, Raggedstar. Brokenstar,” Firepaw observed Yellowfang tensing up at the name, “Has been named the new leader and he showed no indication of threat at the last Gathering.”

Darkstripe narrowed his eyes at Yellowfang, “Maybe she can tell us ShadowClan’s secrets and finally give us some answers?” At this comment, the old she-cat jumped up, snarling at the tabby in a display of aggression.

“I’m no traitor you _mousebrained sack of_ -!” 

“ _Stop_!” Bluestar yowled while a few warriors wedged themselves between the two cats, fur bristling in fury. Yellowfang was obviously still spitting insults and belligerent exchanges with Darkstripe, though both grumbling the jabs underneath their breaths as to not aggravate the ThunderClan leader any further. 

“That’s quite enough!” She let out a weary sigh and sent the two a tired glare, “We don’t need infighting. The situation is too grave, so ThunderClan must prepare itself. Today onwards I want heavier patrols, and no apprentice leaves the camp without one other warrior. Kits must remain in the nursery, and apprentices?” 

The scattered five apprentices raised their heads, eager to hear Bluestar’s preposition, “We’re speeding up your training, this clan needs warriors and you must be ready to fight for our clan.” Graypaw, Sandpaw, and Dustpaw seemed elated at the news while Ravenpaw simply twitched in place, anxious and fearful of Tigerclaw’s intense gaze. Firepaw shifted to sit next to Ravenpaw, blocking him from the large tabby’s line of sight. It was a subtle action, but one met with a grateful nudge. Ravenpaw didn’t need to explain anything to him right now. 

“In speeding up the training of these apprentices, Firepaw,” He flicked an ear in acknowledgement, “An apprentice who has been sharing the mentorship of two warriors will be taken directly under my wing. I will personally train this apprentice.” 

Firepaw purred, the warm feeling growing in his chest never getting old while Graypaw mewled in astonishment, “What an honor, Bluestar hasn’t apprenticed a cat in moons, usually they’re only the kits of deputies, too!” 

“Yellowfang will be allowed to stay here while she heals from her injuries, and is to be treated as a guest with courtesy and respect. We are warriors, not savages.” Bluestar placed careful emphasis on the word, “warriors.”

Darkstripe protested, “Okay, fine, but ThunderClan has too many mouths to feed! How are we expected to support Yellowfang?” Bluestar shrugged while Yellowfang screamed in the distance, something about splitting open anyone that tries to take care of her.

“She’s a friendly one, huh?” Graypaw chuckled nervously near Ravenpaw and Firepaw. 

“Let’s kill two birds with one stone then. Firepaw?” Oh StarClan even in this timeline he can’t catch a break, “Your first duty as my apprentice shall be to care for Yellowfang. She is your responsibility. Change her bedding, feed her, check for any ticks, and such.” 

Tigerclaw’s snort was loud enough for Firepaw to shoot him an irritated glare. Graypaw sent him a pitiful look that just screamed, that’s rough buddy, sorry about that. Even Ravenpaw let out a sympathetic ‘oof’. In the distance, Dustpaw and Sandpaw were nearly tripping over themselves in laughter. Firepaw sighed, and bowed his head, “Yes, Bluestar.” 

Bluestar interrupted the spectacle. “I hope Firepaw will find no shame in caring for Yellowfang. She is a healer, and she is his elder. For those reasons alone he should respect her!” She shot a sharp glance at Sandpaw and Dustpaw. “And there is no humiliation in caring for another cat when it is unable to take care of itself. The meeting is over. I would like to speak to my senior warriors alone now.” With that, she jumped down from the Highrock and marched toward her den.

Longtail brushed up against Firepaw, the young warrior sending him a mocking look, “I hope you think twice about bringing in strays! They only bring trouble.” 

***

His friends wished him luck after the clan meeting, Firepaw groaning and making his way over to the place where the clan usually obtained their moss and bedding. In a way, despite the timeline seemingly screwing him over for fun, this was beneficial to Firepaw. He dropped a fair amount of obvious hints to Yellowfang earlier that indicated he wasn’t exactly what she would expect. Gathering up a decent amount of bedding and assuring that the collection was dry, he first cleaned out the old and soiled bedding for the elders and greeted them accordingly. Halftail snorted, “Still not sure why you would waste your time hanging around with a bunch of elders, but we appreciate it.” 

After briefly replacing the bedding, he occupied his time until near sunset when he heaved a breath. Looks like it was time to feed Yellowfang and figure out where she would be sleeping. The grumpy cat huffed from underneath the Highrock, “Stop right there, kitty. You’re a little kittypet, right? Your mother a kittypet, Father a kittypet?” He held back the urge to sneer through the moss in his jaws.

“Yes, that’s what being a kittypet normally entails. I was raised by humans.” He replied in a flat tone. Firepaw was never looking forward to tackling this brief hurdle that blocked him and Yellowfang from actual decent conversation. He was fond of the cat, but there was only so much teasing about his heritage that he was willing to handle, especially considering the grievances and hardship it had cost him last time.

Something cold wrenched itself into his chest, suddenly. It whispered and reminded him of the perception he builds for himself in the eyes of his clanmates. To them, he was still nothing but an outsider kittypet, benefiting on the charity of their leader. His claws gently worked into the loosening soil, _no that wasn’t true._ Or at least, it wouldn’t be. He’d grow up and see his clanmates around him slowly find themselves used to his presence. It wasn’t a crime to miss them, it’ll just take some time to get back into the rhythm of fitting in. 

For now though, he hadn’t had the opportunity to prove himself to his clan yet. Nothing but a few caught pieces of prey and a forgotten collar. Oh well, at least Graypaw, Ravenpaw, and the elders seemed to not mind him. 

“ThunderClan to kittypet, are you listening?” Yellowfang waved her tail in front of Firepaw’s face incredulously. Her voice startled him, causing him to jolt slightly in place. She scrutinized him carefully, “You had a weird look on your face, don’t tell me you can’t take some teasing! It’s humiliating enough that a kittypet is fussing at me, let alone one who’s so soft!” 

Just like before, he felt his patience drain out of him, however this time instead of snapping, he simply dropped the moss onto the ground in front of Yellowfang tiredly. 

“You’d be humiliated even if I were a full warrior or a rogue, or some human that happened to pick you up. Actually, the only thing you’re humiliated by is the fact that you have to rely on literally anyone for help. But you know what? You’re just another cat like me, so for once take what you’re offered and quit putting up that difficult front. Get used to having someone care about you, you bitter bone bag.” Yellowfang gaped at him, seemingly not expecting the exasperated rant from the little apprentice. 

After a moment she laughed, slightly uncomfortable and shifting in her spot in the clearing.

“So the apprentice has spirit! At least I’m not being watched over by a boring cat.” There was a tense silence. Firepaw turned and made quick work of arranging her bedding and assuring that everything looked alright when Yellowfang cleared her throat suddenly. He raised his head curiously. What more did she want to say?

“Look. I’ll admit that what you said does hold some truth in it, but what about you, huh?” 

“What _about_ me?” 

She meowed a short laugh, “Just tell me this and I’ll leave you alone for the day. Why in the name of the entire forest would you choose to abandon such an easy and carefree life? You have humans to care for you, you don’t have to hunt for your food, sickness is a myth of the past, and there is not a day in your life that you need to face the violence and difficulties of clan life. 

“Accept help when you are given, is basically what you said. You had all the help in the world! Why leave that?” Well he would admit, Firepaw hadn’t given it much thought the very first time he decided to join the clans, and even less so the second time around. There was a life of ease and protection that loomed behind him, and it was what earned him the derogatory title of ‘kittypet’. 

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure myself at first,” He began, thinking carefully, “It began with some weird dreams of hunting mice and such, then it turned into the food looking less like food and more like rat droppings, and then more dreams and then an impulsive decision and now I’m here.

“I guess what I really have to say is that I’m still learning why myself. It started with a dumb wish to live a different life, but the more I experience the more sure I am that this is how I want to spend the rest of my life. What I’m saying is- I sorta-” He thought a little more, while Yellowfang watched, her head tilted to the side almost in disbelief. 

He hummed in thought, absentmindedly licking the fur on his chest, “I guess what I really mean is, if you live without facing any problems or difficulties, always given what you desire the moment you ask and without facing the challenges of life itself, what’s the point of living it? We live to find our purposes in life, I don’t want mine to be serving as a human toy. Accepting help when necessary is good, but it’s not when allowing help to grow into control.” Images of the battle for the clans flashed into his mind, as well as the prophecy and the ancient cats hiding in the stars. Firepaw unconsciously winced at the memories. 

Yellowfang stared, wide eyed once more, “Big words for a little apprentice.” 

Feeling the tension finally lift from his shoulders and the atmosphere around them, Firepaw laughed, “I’ve seen a lot.” 

“You talk like an elder, sometimes, I swear. Everything okay in the noggin?” She teased more, but this time less aimed towards riling Firepaw up or hurting him and instead focused on cooling down his sudden bursts of seriousness. He snorted and waved his tail, walking over to the fresh kill pile to pick up a shrew for Yellowfang (it was her favorite) and a mouse for himself. Dropping the prey and eating his share quickly, she spoke between mouth fulls.

“I’d kill for some poppy seeds right about now. Hey kit, go and find that pretty little medicine cat of yours and ask her for some herbs and poppy seeds. I think you’ll find a goldenrod poultice would help.” Firepaw stood up and stretched, nodding before padding into the medicine cat den. 

Spottedleaf was kind enough to search her herb stocks for him as he listed off the names of plants Yellowfang had casually prattled about. The smell of herbs and the cool den was always a small comfort to Firepaw. Instantly he wondered how different life would be if he ever chose to become a medicine cat, but soon disregarded the idea. He enjoyed sparring and the thrill of battle and being a warrior. A bell-like sounding voice chimed from deep inside the medicine den, “Here we go! That bundle should have everything she mentioned. Oh, and tell Yellowfang to take it easy on the poppy seeds? A little pain can be good sometimes, it helps to judge her healing.” 

She set said bundle of herbs onto the ground and shot him a quick friendly smile. Firepaw thanked her and picked the bundle up before trotting over to Yellowfang. 

Along the way he felt the amber gaze of Tigerclaw burning into his back, looking back to see the warrior staring at him from the entrance of the warrior’s den. Firepaw honestly didn’t want to deal with that ant hill at the moment, so Tigerclaw could, frankly, suck it. 

He dropped the herbs in front of Yellowfang, she purred in thanks, “Good! Now leave me in peace, scram.” He didn’t expect anything different from her and turned to walk away, maybe into the apprentice’s den to sleep since the moon was beginning to crawl its way up the sky to hang in Silverpelt for the rest of the evening. 

As he was turning, he was interrupted by a little, “ah, wait.”

For possibly the third or fourth time that day, Yellowfang fixed him with an odd look, “Hey, kit? Cool the thoughts down a little okay, there’s gonna be a time for that later, for now apprentices should just enjoy themselves. You’re gonna kill me with that weird look your face gets every time you space out to do some internal monologue.” 

He just continued to stare, feigning ignorance. 

“Okay, _now_ scram.”

***

A few mornings had crawled by, filled with a balance of intense training from Bluestar and tending to Yellowfang. And no sleep. Definitely not enough sleep. Firepaw nearly screamed when he woke early before sunrise, but pushed himself up from the comfortable nest and continued to wake his nearly equally exhausted friends, “Graypaw get up you snoring monster, it’s morning.” 

He prodded his friend’s side, kneading his stomach with sheathed paws until Graypaw groaned and rolled out of his own nest, “Ugh, okay yeah I’m up.” 

Firepaw trudged over to where Ravenpaw was sleeping, “Hey, buddy? It’s morning.” He chose not to prod and knead him like he did to Graypaw, not wanting Ravenpaw to freak out upon waking up. His friend was still jumpy and unconfident, and it made him break a little to have to see this all over again. Despite his attempts to help, Ravenpaw was still anxious and nervous as ever. He’d just have to keep trying and be there for him. A tiny “Firepaw, five more minutes,” indicated that he was up.

Lastly Sandpaw and Dustpaw. It wasn’t often that Firepaw woke up before them, so he made the most of it. 

Wiggling his tail and crouching, Graypaw quickly caught on and joined in next to him before both jumped in an awkward kitten pile atop of the two older apprentices, _“HEY GOOD MORNING THE SUN IS RISING GET UP SLEEPY HEADS.”_

There was a small growl the two felt beneath them, “I’m going to kill you.” 

Sporting a new ache in his shoulder (courtesy of Dustpaw), Firepaw and the rest of the apprentices sleepily padded out of their den. He immediately trembled in the cold air, jealous of Graypaw’s thicker pelt. Greenleaf was soon ending and that brought with it a morning chill and cold dew on the forest floor. He checked to see if Yellowfang was awake and noted that the slow rise and fall of her pelt indicated sleep. Graypaw nudged him sympathetically, “We’ll see you later, okay? Balancing Bluestar’s training and that mangy old fleabag can be a challenge but you seem to be doing fine so far.” 

“Yeah, he’s just doing so well looking after elders and essentially becoming a medicine cat.” Dustpaw mocked, but the jabs lacked a certain spark than usual. Firepaw flicked his tail and ignored the sad attempt at an insult, favoring a response in the form of a compliment instead.

“You seem to be doing pretty well in your apprenticeship. How’s training with Darkstripe going?” Dustpaw narrowed his eyes, expecting a response instead of a kind comment.

He sniffed, “He’s no Redtail but training is doing just fine i’ll tell you. We’re sparring with Sandpaw and Whitestorm today.” 

Firepaw nodded before trotting to the fresh kill pile to pick something up for Yellowfang. Dustpaw’s gaze prickled on his back the entire trip. 

He dropped the mouse in front of the old cat as she sneezed, “Greenleaf sure is a thing of the past now. About time you got here with some food.” Looks like she woke up. 

Firepaw knew he wouldn’t get many opportunities to ask this once Bluestar woke up and began training for the day, so he decided to pick the maggot in the meat and gather a fair amount of courage, “Yellowfang? I have to, uh, ask about something.” She instantly froze.

“Dear god I’m not giving you the talk, am I?”

“What the- _no-_ what, ew. That’s _not- No!_ ” Firepaw stuck his tongue out, immediately appalled, “A _different_ question!”

“Oh thank StarClan.” She plopped back onto her side and waited before growing slightly impatient, “Get on with it, kit!” 

“Alright, alright! I just… this is going to sound weird and you don’t have to believe me but just don’t call me crazy, okay?” Firepaw took a deep breath. Out of all the cats he considered telling, he immediately chose to consult Yellowfang. Graypaw and him… they were unbelievably close, he couldn’t deny that, but he wouldn’t be able to hold any support from him once Silverstream entered the picture. Ravenpaw had enough on his plate already, he wanted to prevent Bluestar from having another massive mental breakdown, and surprisingly he had considered telling Whitestorm as well. 

And then he realized Whitestorm wasn’t his trusted deputy yet and they barely knew each other aside from a few scattered conversations and friendly exchanges so Yellowfang it was. 

“I got sent here from the future and I grew up to become the leader of ThunderClan but there’s a cat out there that can rip all nine lives from a cat at once and disband the clans also StarClan might just fall apart and I kind of got sent here to prevent that but honestly it’s a lot of pressure and I’m frankly overwhelmed.”

“You’re crazy.” 

“Yeah I expected as much, I didn’t mean to word vomit as much as I just did but it’s all the truth.” 

Yellowfang rolled her eyes, grunting as she stood and leaning to look at Firepaw to check for signs of injury or instability, “And in the off chance that you’re telling the truth?”

“The first time I met you I knew your name and said it to you before you even mentioned who you were.” 

“Anyone could have told you that beforehand.”

“The kits will be running out of the nursery right about now and they’re going to be play fighting acting as ThunderClan warriors against Brokenstar and you’re going to flip mousedung at them” Yellowfang sent him a look of disbelief and looked over his shoulder, seeing the kits play fighting, sure enough. She was about to open her mouth and snarl at them but realized the counterintuitiveness of it before her voice left her mouth and she immediately shut her jaws with an audible click of teeth. _Obviously she wouldn’t be convinced of a little coincidence like this,_ Firepaw mused, _but she’d come around sooner or later._

Or maybe sooner than expected apparently choosing the former over the latter option, “So say I believe you, what would you want out of this?” 

Firepaw hesitated and swiped his tail back and forth behind him with anxious little swishing noises. He didn’t want to seem childish, he was a (mentally) grown cat for StarClan’s sake! There was no reason he couldn’t handle this alone. Ancient giant wild cats approached him for some reason so he hoped that reason was because they thought he’d be a good choice for saving these clans. 

Then again, he was literally feeling his mind slowly flattening by the pressure and isolation, “Just… someone to talk to?” 

Silence. Extremely awkward and long silence. 

Yellowfang finally broke it with a groan and sat back to eat her mouse, “Well, I don’t have anything better to do all day, kit. Spill.” 

Elated was a good word to describe Firepaw as his ears shot up from their drooped state and he immediately eased into the story before descending into an utter pile of word vomit yet again. 

Yellowfang rolled her eyes and chewed on her mouse while listening to the impossible apprentice’s tales of the future and such. He was a total pawfull and couldn’t possibly be telling the truth, but he told good stories. 

Firepaw seemed a little too knowledgeable for his age anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually dont know what yellowfang's favorite type of food is i am a dirty liar
> 
> please tell me of any grammar or naming mistakes i made in this chapter, i accidentally called dustpaw dustpelt like, eight times before i revised OOOOOF


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when reading, you'll notice that i changed the formatting just a bit! please tell me what you think! ALSO I AM SO SORRY THIS IS NEARLY A WEEK LATE LOLOLOL, all of my usual free time was booked this week and last week, so there was no time to do literally anything. luckily, i was able to push hard enough to finish this! that being said, i did noooot look over this chapter nor have time to send this to a beta or proofreader so there are bound to be countless errors and awkward sentences that just don't make sense. i wanted to get this out as soon as possible so hoooh rip. please leave a comment if you liked and especially if you found any errors or sentences that can be fixed! thank you!

The next morning was one full of apprentice duties and mouse bile and answering questions that Yellowfang had asked of him, seemingly humoring him with his claim of precognition. Certain questions were either so specific that Firepaw wouldn’t have even bothered to remember such details in the first place, and others were more difficult to answer. 

 

_“Hey, what days will it be raining?”_

_“Yellowfang, my memory isn’t actually that good. I can’t remember little things like that.”_

_“Come off it, kit. Cut the old girl some slack.”_

 

Along with the extra time taken out of the day to care for Yellowfang came the sudden lessons as well. 

 

_Dripping water and morning dew of the grass and leaves greeted Firepaw in the dawn as he woke. His fur was slightly fluffier in the humid air and indicated a sprinkle of rain floating down onto the forest. Immediately he knew Yellowfang would be cranky this morning due to her bones aching from the rain._

_As he expected, upon waking from her slumber the old cat grumbled, stretching slowly, “Morning already? My bones ache like no tomorrow, has it been raining all night?”_

_“Just since moonhigh.” Firepaw mewled and was a mouse length’s away from suggesting she move closer to the nursery for shelter before remembering her situation regarding kits. He knew she didn’t actually hate them, the sight instead evoked more sorrow than hatred in reminiscence to Brokenstar._

_Instead, he fetched dry bedding and nudged Yellowfang (ignoring the light hiss of annoyance), “Let’s move you closer to the warriors’ den, it has some brambles and trees for shelter. Not the best, but better than sitting out here in the middle of the clearing.”_

_She hesitated but eventually followed the apprentice to the drier area, circling her new bedding and settling down. Firepaw nodded and nearly turned away before being interrupted by a sudden mumble, “Thank you, Firepaw.”_

_Well he wasn’t expecting that. Definitely stunned to say the least but the kind gesture was appreciated. Tempted to tease or point out the reluctant little compliment, Firepaw elected to do otherwise since he knew the old girl would likely yowl in an exasperated backlash._

_As the rain drizzled, more warriors yawned and stretched their legs outside of the den as they emerged sleepily, revealing old scars and newer cobwebs. Yellowfang observed the nicks and wounds and rolled her eyes, “Warriors, always the prideful ones. Convincing ShadowClan warriors to learn basic herbal treatments and medicine cat techniques had been a nightmare. Doesn’t any cat know that the healers can’t always reach them in time? Ugh.”_

_She shifted on her bedding, torso facing Firepaw from where he sat watching the camp slowly wake with the sun. Turning his ears towards her ever so slightly to indicate that he was listening, she continued, “You’d do good to convince your friends to pick up on some medicinal background. Should be useful too considering all the snooping around you apprentices do, poking into clan drama.”_

_That got him turning his head, “What? I-I don’t snoop!” He protested, but knew that was a total lie. Firepaw and drama go together like greenleaf and mice. It was just inevitable!_

_Yellowfang cackled, “Mousedung you don’t, and you know it too. Look, just do both of us and the future warriors in ThunderClan a solid and pick up on some of that training. Not a lot, obviously, but enough to make you feel like less of an idiot when you get a thorn in your paw and Spottedleaf and I are too preoccupied by literally anything else to help.”_

 

And thus the short little lessons began, in the middle of cracking ticks, or fetching prey, or changing bedding. Firepaw would like to say that he was becoming an intellectual on the subject, able to relay the information like the back of his paw in the days that spanned his little medicine lectures. 

 

That’d be a lie though. He totally sucked.

 

_“Firepaw what kind of bandage job is that? These cobwebs are fastened on so loosely that they may as well be ghosts. Specifically mine. My ghost. I’m haunting you for your terrible bandaging.”_

_“Firepaw if you give me that herb for an infection there’s about a massive StarClan’s chance that I’d actually die from watching your stupidity than the actual wound itself.”_

_“Good guess, Firepaw… No, not really. I just said that to make you feel better. Now let’s try this again.”_

 

So the lessons were going great.

 

It was during one such lesson that Speckletail had approached Firepaw, the latter cat nearly colliding into her, “Oh, hello Speckletail! Sorry about that- almost running into you, I mean. Are you going to see Yellowfang?” 

 

The distaste was practically painted onto the queen’s usually gentle face and he immediately remembered that she was the mother of the kits that Yellowfang frequently snapped at when they were playing too close to her, “Ugh, what would I want with _that_ unnatural creature? No, I actually came here to talk to you, Firepaw. Bluestar wants to see you.” 

 

Oh dear StarClan, finally. Firepaw gave Speckletail a polite nod and scampered off to the Highrock and into Bluestar’s den. He admired and appreciated Yellowfang, but being assigned to watch over her day in and out while balancing apprentice training and other duties was stressful enough. Upon arriving to the leader’s den, Bluestar noticed Firepaw practically skipping towards her and paused in her grooming, “How’s Yellowfang today?”

 

“I was going to get her more dry bedding since her old bedding is wet. She can walk now, but isn’t really fit for hunting.” Bluestar flicked her tail dismissively, licking a paw and eyeing her apprentice carefully. 

 

“I’ll ask one of the queens to see to that. It’s about time you put your full focus onto your training. I know you’ve been training at the same time as watching over Yellowfang, but I fear you’re falling behind.” 

 

Firepaw purred, akin to a trill, “That’s great! I mean- thank you, Bluestar!” Finally, he was able to afford a bit of breathing room. And with that, some thinking time to concentrate on his next steps. His apprentice  
days weren’t as eventful as those when he became a warrior, but he knew he couldn’t afford neglecting his actual reason for being back in the past. 

 

Bluestar sat up straighter, looking him in the eyes fixing a steady gaze, “You will go out with Tigerclaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw this morning,” She continued, “I’ve asked Tigerclaw to assess the warrior skills of all our apprentices. Don’t worry about Yellowfang; I’ll make sure someone sees to her while you are gone.” 

 

Firepaw nodded.

 

“Now, join your companions,” Bluestar ordered, “I expect they’re waiting for you.” 

 

***

 

“And the elusive Firepaw joins us today! For a busy apprentice, we sure don’t see you a lot.” Graypaw teased as his small friend bumped his shoulder in feigned annoyance. Ravenpaw ceased his stressful back and forth pacing to offer Firepaw a little nod in greeting. Firepaw returned it enthusiastically, nearly embarrassing his anxious companion.

 

Graypaw rolled his shoulders slightly, the stretch’s tension creeping into his voice, “Jeez though, when is Tigerclaw going to get here? We’ve been waiting in the training hollow for ages now.” Ravenpaw shrugged, shifting his paws in a way that appeared as if he didn’t know where to place them. Apparently all parties were stumped. 

 

“I-I don’t know, usually Tigerclaw is more punctual than this. Maybe Bluestar had to hold him behind to talk to him about something? I mean- Either way we should, uh, be more careful about what we say. You can never know with Tigerclaw he might be watching us right now at this very moment.” His tail twitched, the little white tip of the appendage too fast to track with his eyes.

 

Graypaw sighed, “Ravenpaw cool down, Tigerclaw isn’t some all-seeing StarClan cat. Here- I’ll even prove it.” Hunching his back legs, he jumped onto a nearby tree branch, clinging onto its bark and after sitting on the branch, clearing his throat with an audible rumble. Firepaw was just about five seconds away from walking away from the scene to preserve whatever deniability he had, but curiosity outweighed self-preservation at the moment and he was frankly interested in any possible scatterbrained scheme Graypaw had. Said cat perched on the tree branch, straightened his back, and spoke in an overly-sophisticated and dramatic manner.

 

“Tigerclaw is a pompous pile of mousecrap.” 

 

Firepaw snorted, almost expecting that level of immaturity from an apprentice aged Graypaw. Meanwhile, Ravenpaw was attempting to dig his own grave, switching back and forth from nervously scolding Graypaw, to laughing, to turning towards Firepaw with a resigned expression that screamed, _‘If we get in trouble for this I’m half tempted to throw Graypaw to the dogs.’_

 

Instead of acting as any normal cat with half a brain would, Graypaw simply chanted the sentence, voice growing increasingly loud with every passing one. 

 

_**“TIGERCLAW IS A POMPOUS PILE OF-”** _

 

“Part of me is genuinely tempted to fail your assessment right now.” The hiss was immediately recognizable for Firepaw and Ravenpaw, who scrambled up from their rolling fits of laughter into a more appropriate position. Graypaw wasn’t so lucky and in his surprise, fell from the tree branch and onto his hindquarters. He hissed, but was overall lucky that the perch wasn’t very high up the tree. Tigerclaw lashed his tail in blatant irritation, “Are you kits finished?”

 

Three rapid nods in response.

 

He landed the trio a contempt look and huffed, “Lionheart and I have spent the last few weeks trying to teach you how to hunt decently,” he meowed, “Today you’ll have a chance to show me how much you have learned. Each of you will take a different route and hunt as much prey as possible. Whatever you catch will be added to the supplies in the camp.”

 

The three apprentices looked at one another, nervous and excited. Firepaw felt his heart begin to beat faster at the prospect of a little challenge.

 

“Ravenpaw, you will follow the trail beyond the Great Sycamore as far as the Snakerocks. That should be easy enough for your pitiful skills.” A faint wince from the great tabby’s apprentice placed an upsetting pit in the bottom of Firepaw’s stomach. Regardless, Ravenpaw nodded obediently. 

 

“You, Graypaw,” Tigerclaw continued, “will take the route along the stream, as far as the Thunderpath.”

 

“Great,” mewed Graypaw. “Wet paws for me!” Tigerclaw’s stare silenced him.

 

He sighed, appearing to want to rather ditch these immature apprentices rather than stick around and watch their assessments, “And finally you, Firepaw. What a massive shame your great mentor couldn’t be here today to witness your performance for herself. You’ll take the route through the Tallpines, past the Treecut place, to the woods beyond.”

 

Outwardly he nodded in affirmation, but internally Firepaw felt a touch of anger burning in his blood. He remembered now, the assigned route, and everyone’s intentions with sending Firepaw so close to his old human home. Smudge.

 

Despite wanting to avoid that altercation altogether, Firepaw acknowledged that certain events should pass as normally as possible as to not skew the line of events that he could predict. 

 

Either way, he knew what he wanted to tell Bluestar in his defense this time. Probably?

 

Tigerclaw ended his instructions with a strict growl, “Remember, I will be watching every single one of you.”

 

***

Ravenpaw wasted no time sprinting towards Snakerocks. A flash of worry coursed through him before Graypaw flicked his nose with his tail, “Quit the worrying and intense thinking. Ravenpaw is too jumpy for those snakes to catch anyways, he’ll be fine; just like you.” An affectionate nuzzle later, Firepaw was left alone.

 

After a few moments, he lifted himself to his feet and began his trek towards the assigned route, hunting along the way and creating several tiny dug out piles of freshly collected mice, rabbits, and shrew. The air tasted increasingly humid and acrid with the pungent fumes of monster, its old tracks so deep they collected rainwater in tempting, large puddles. As parched as he was, Firepaw knew drinking water from a monster’s tracks was a one way trip to regret. From experience.

 

Ultimately Firepaw reached the point where he neared various humans and their sounds, and strange movements, and fenced structures as the trees thinned in their thick. Crows in the distance chirped without beaks and with large stone homes instead of nests and the little apprentice grimaced. He could have been a cat constantly surrounded by this wall of pseudo freedom, and cacophony of obnoxious and unpleasant sounds. He scrunched his nose slightly and moved onwards.

 

It seemed that certain events were just destined to remain linear. Even with the knowledge of their meeting beforehand, Firepaw once again attacked Smudge as an unfamiliar cat. His pudgy and plump self wriggling under the ginger paws of a cat training to become a warrior, Firepaw recognized his former companion quickly enough and soon released him. Unfamiliar in scent, he sadly noted that Smudge had already seen the Cutter- or, vet. Hopefully Smudge would become happier than old Henry had been.

 

“Smudge!” 

 

“H-ho-how d-d-do you know my n-name?” stammered Smudge, hunched over in a small position. Firepaw flicked his ear impatiently.

 

“It’s me, you know, Rusty?” At the unwavering confused stare he was still fixed under, Firepaw held in the urge to roll his eyes, “Joined the wild cats, _lived in the garden next to you,_ we were friends?” His voice dropped the annoyance and shifted to a more hopeful tone. 

 

Smudge seemed to recognize him, eyes narrowing slightly, “It is you! You’re actually here!” He brushed his pelt alongside Firepaw’s in a moment of warm greetings before stepping away suddenly, “If it’s you, then the rumors were true. You’re really living with those cats in the forest now, huh?” 

 

Firepaw nodded, wondering where Smudge was leading the conversation, “It’s been hard I’m not going to lie. It feels like I… Well, like I’ve been living here for way longer than it seems.” 

 

That was putting it lightly.

 

After a moment of thought, Smudge quietly asked, “Do you ever regret it?” 

 

His sudden question sent a slight jolt to Firepaw’s pelt, his paws shifting in his own thought before giving the most appropriate answer he could muster, “I’ll make sure I don’t.” 

 

***

 

They shared news and talked amiably, the strange atmosphere lifting after the initial conversation and turning into something more friendly. After an indefinite amount of time, Firepaw sent a goodbye to Smudge and left to gather the prey he’d stored. The hunt was plentiful considering the changing weather, though Firepaw already knew what to expect upon returning to camp. 

 

Just as expected, Tigerclaw lashed his tail upon his arrival, “You’re the first one back.” Firepaw narrowed his eyes and began to explain that he had more prey to go back for when he was interrupted by a snort.

 

“I know exactly what you did.” Tigerclaw began, but then said something that gave Firepaw an emotion he hadn’t personally felt in a while, genuine unanticipation. 

 

“You’re lucky I’m going to let it slip this time.” 

 

Oh StarClan he must have looked like a literal frozen rabbit with his wide eyed, shocked stare. _Let- let it slip? Wha- did Tigerclaw even understand the concept of letting something go? What’d he do to get this sort of response- didn’t the tom sort of hate him?_ Firepaw’s jaws remained unhinged in disbelief. Perhaps… no, Tigerclaw had to have told Bluestar!

 

Rustling leaves erupting from nearby bushes sounded as Graypaw approached, spitting the coarse hairs of squirrel in between his teeth, just in time to see Tigerclaw snap at Firepaw to _‘shut that mouth up, you’ll get flies stuck in your teeth!’_

 

“First of all Firepaw that’s hilarious, second, ech! Squirrels are too furry.” He emphasized his point by sticking his tongue out and attempting to paw the hairs out. Firepaw regained his senses and broke eye contact with Tigerclaw to laugh at his friend, not minding if it sounded a bit forced as long as no one else picked up on it as well. 

 

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes, “Ravenpaw’s late.” 

 

Briefly, a flash of alarm passed through him against his better judgement, “What if he’s been bitten by an adder? He could be hurt, shouldn’t we-?” 

 

“Then it’s his own fault. We don’t have room for fools in ThunderClan, don’t test your luck, Firepaw.” He replied coldly, filling Firepaw with a suspicion that his words held a double meaning. Either way, there was no way he wasn’t going to search for his friend. Graypaw nearly joined him before stopping at the scent of a familiar cat and relaxing. 

 

“Wait- Ravenpaw’s here.”

 

 _“HEY CHECK **THIS** OUT!”_ Ravenpaw burst into the circle, uncharacteristically open and giddy with the body of an adder clenched between his jaws. Graypaw gaped, surprised at the catch while Firepaw quickly looked his friend over.

 

“Are you okay? No bites or anything?” Ravenpaw smiled at the obvious coddling and worrying and fussing his friend was displaying. By the looks of it, Graypaw was two heartbeats away from doing the same.

 

“No, no, I’m fine. I was too fast for it.” He avoided Tigerclaw’s cold gaze. Without a word, their supervisor for the solo assessment stalked back towards the direction of camp. Heeding the silent notion, all three apprentices followed the same. 

 

Graypaw eyed the adder in Ravenpaw’s mouth, “Hey, do you think it’s possible to eat that?” A moment of thought passed before Ravenpaw shook his head.

 

“No, this thing is pretty gross in my mouth already. It tastes awful foul.” He scrunched his nose in distaste and continued walking alongside the pair while occasionally stumbling and tripping over the adder’s long body. Through the branches and ravines, the cats emerged into the camp with their prey, kits stumbling from the nursery to watch them. 

 

Firepaw waved his tail, nodding in greeting while setting his prey onto the pile. 

 

Meeting his friends near the apprentices’ den, the trio gathered around the body of the adder in question of what to do with it. Graypaw opened his mouth, “Maybe we can keep it on the tree stump where Sandpaw and Dustpaw should see it?” 

 

“... It can’t hurt.”

 

“Graypaw, you’re a genius.” Graypaw whispered loudly to himself. Firepaw laughed as the adder was put on display for the camp to see. Their little club eased into a sense of relaxation, easy conversation passed amongst the three as they cleaned their pelts. 

 

“Hey, who do you think is going to be at the Gathering tomorrow night? It’s an important one since this is the first one since WindClan’s disappearance, ShadowClan has to mention it!” Firepaw rambled. In all honesty, he wished he could sprint out of camp right there and then to find WindClan and bring them home, yet he knew there were other shifting tides in the future that he couldn’t afford to miss while tracking WindClan. The journey was at least four days long, four days he wasn’t willing to risk yet. 

 

Behind him, Tigerclaw rumbled, “You are right, youngster.” Firepaw nearly jumped out of his pelt as the warrior had strolled up to them unnoticed. 

 

“By the way, Firepaw,” he added smoothly, “Bluestar wants to see you.” 

 

Hesitating, Firepaw nodded his head and quickly walked over to Bluestar’s den. Did Tigerclaw actually take back what he said and told their leader about the events during the assessment? Outside the Highrock, Bluestar was cleaning her nephew Whitestorm’s pelt while they talked and relaxed. Upon his arrival she purred, “You’re here. I’ve heard good things about you and your companions today.” 

 

Firepaw stammered, not expecting the compliment, “Ah, th-thank you, Bluestar!”

 

She exchanged an amused look with Whitestorm, the latter stretching before informing her that he was going to go rest in the warrior’s den. He sent Firepaw a friendly glance before padding away to give both of them a bit of privacy. Bluestar let herself lie down in the grass, Firepaw soon following as she began to clean his pelt as well. She seemed to be dropping her leader-like personality for the moment and eased into a more casual behavior and conversation. Truth be told, Firepaw felt slightly guilty for being able to share this moment of peace with his mentor. For what reason, he had yet to understand. 

 

While checking him over, she paused in her licking, “I spoke to Yellowfang earlier. She thinks of you often whether or not she cares to admit it, a wise old she-cat, you know,” She checked behind ginger ears for missed spots and continued, “And I suspect she wasn’t always bad-tempered. Indeed, I think that I could grow to like her.”

 

He heard a little snort from Bluestar, indicating that she probably picked up on the sudden elatedness from her apprentice. Yellowfang was always one of his favorite cats, Firepaw often wishing to see her in StarClan more often as he still had so much to ask of her and talk about. In a sense, she was probably the closest thing to a caretaker he had. Whatever the reason, he was glad Bluestar liked her too.

 

“There’s something about her that I still don’t trust though,” Bluestar went on quietly. “She can stay with ThunderClan for now, but remain as a prisoner. The queens will care for her. You must concentrate on your training.”

 

Quickly nodding, he moved to dismiss himself though it seemed Bluestar wasn’t finished, “Slow down, I’m not quite done yet.” She cleaned the back of his pelt, Firepaw feeling slightly embarrassed being washed like a kit by its mother. After a brief once over and nod in approval, she waved her tail.

 

“You and your friends did well in the assessment today. Tell them they’re allowed to come to the Gathering tomorrow night, Sandpaw and Dustpaw will guard the camp,” She looked vaguely amused, “Alright, _now_ you may go.” 

 

***

 

“Haha, you looked like a little kit being washed by its mother. Anyways, what’d Bluestar say?” Graypaw greeted his friend while eating, Ravenpaw lifting his mouth from his food in question as well. 

 

Firepaw perked up, ears pricking in anticipation, “Guess which three are going to the Gathering tonight?” Graypaw immediately yowled in delight, jumping around and accidentally knocking the adder on the tree stump onto Ravenpaw. He promptly yelped and shook it off, the adder hitting his gray friend, “W-whoa, watch it!” 

 

Ravenpaw hissed, feigning anger at Graypaw. Picking up the adder with his teeth, Firepaw snickered, “Scared it might bite you?” The three apprentices goofed off, Firepaw chasing Ravenpaw with the adder in his jaws. 

 

“Yeah, some snake you’d make!” Leaping onto his friend and rolling him on his back, Ravenpaw knocked the animal out of Firepaw’s mouth in the process. Graypaw took one look at the situation and jumped on top as well, turning the three into a pile of giggling fur. 

 

He missed this, Firepaw absentmindedly thought to himself. Goofing off with his friends and talking to Yellowfang about everything and nothing, getting excited over Gatherings and being under Bluestar’s careful guidance. It wasn’t meant to last, but he’d taken it for granted during the first timeline. Maybe it was time to change that. 

 

A muffled voice came from under the pile of fur, “So who wants to tell Sandpaw and Dustpaw?” 

 

Soon enough, the Gathering night approached. Illuminating the skies and their route, the full moon hung over ThunderClan as they trekked onto the gathering place, four distinct, massive trees indicating the location as well as the shifting silhouettes of warriors, apprentices, queens, and the like. Wide eyed, the young apprentices scanned the circle of cats while practically bouncing on their feet. Firepaw himself remained absolutely still, stomach nearly growing sick over the sight of the battle that hadn’t existed yet. He dug his claws into the ground and forced himself to suppress the events in his memory. This was a peaceful meeting among clans, he can do this, breathe in and out.

 

“All these cats!” Ravenpaw mewled in disbelief and awe, while Graypaw excitedly nudged his shoulder in response. 

 

“Look- that’s Crookedstar! RiverClan’s leader!” 

 

“Oh, what? Where?” 

 

Firepaw eased from his earlier disquiet and snorted at his friends’ excitement. That soon came to a halt as he heard a distinct name drift across the clearing, “There’s Brokenstar, ShadowClan’s leader.” 

 

Something shifts inside him just a bit and Firepaw growls, curling his lips in disgust. The cat in question sat still from his spot, frozen to the earth as if he were a corpse. Long, tabby fur seemingly stiff, even in the breeze. 

 

Graypaw followed his line of vision, “He’s a nasty one, with a specific reputation among the clans. Only been clan leader for about four moons now, though- at least, ever since his father Raggedstar died.” 

 

He eased his face into a more neutral position, “Where’s Tallstar?” 

 

Graypaw shrugged, “Beats me, beats all of us actually. Even checking the air…” He sniffed the air and reeled back, “I don’t smell any WindClan cats here.”

 

Lionheart chose then to approach the apprentices, his thick fur practically glowing under the moon’s soft light, “Remember, they may just be somewhat late. It happens occasionally.” His apprentice frowned.

 

“What if they end up not showing up at all, though?” 

 

“Hush, we must all be patient. Bluestar will signal the meeting to begin any second now.” As if on cue, the silver leader flicked her tail, signalling the rest of the clan to enter the clearing, slowly mingling with the other clans’ cats. 

 

Ravenpaw looked to Whitestorm, “Do you think the Gathering will begin soon?” 

 

Flicking an ear, he tried to think of a good response, “The only way to find out is through patience. You have many other apprentices your age here, there’s time to make some new friends while waiting.” 

 

Meanwhile Firepaw busied himself by observing the ShadowClan cats, wincing slightly at the apprentices with just a bit too much fluff and kitten fur to be possibly over six moons old. Warriors were the same age as apprentices, apprentices were the same age as kits, all scrawny and tense. Their claws dug into the cool soil as if it were a lifeline, one of the only things currently in their surroundings grounding them. 

 

He shifted his attention to Tigerclaw, holding himself back from scoffing. Barely. 

 

Within a circle of warriors from mixed clans, Tigerclaw depicted his timeless battle story of Sunningrocks, yet refrained from mentioning killing Oakheart. Typical, there were RiverClan cats in the audience; he couldn’t tell the clan that found the cat’s boulder-crushed body his contradictory information. Instead of weaving the story with glory and gusto, there was a darker component to it, leaving Firepaw uncomfortable and giving him pause. He didn’t want to think about the masked guilt in Tigerclaw’s voice during the story.

 

Soon he came to sit beside Graypaw, his friend nodding at him, “Still no scent of WindClan.” 

 

“Yeah, I expected as much.” Firepaw replied, his voice seeming slightly more down that usual. In an attempt to distract him, Graypaw nudged his shoulder.

 

“Hey, look at ShadowClan’s medicine cat, Runningnose. You can tell why they call him that, he can’t even cure his own cold!” Turning his head in the same direction as Graypaw, Firepaw snorted much to his friend’s relief. The cat’s nose was crusty and constantly running, the cat in question sneezing suddenly, causing Firepaw to look away bashfully. 

 

Runningnose was in the center of a small circle of other medicine cats and interested warriors, telling the cats about an herb that medicine cats had used in the old days to cure kittencough, “Since the humans came and filled the place with hard earth and strange flowers,” he complained in a high-pitched yowl, “the herb has disappeared, and kittens die needlessly in cold weather.”

 

The cats gathered around him yowled their disapproval.

 

“The great cats would have killed any humans that dared enter their territory! If TigerClan roamed this forest still, humans wouldn’t have built this far into our land.”

 

In reply, Firepaw heard Spottedleaf’s quiet but sensible mew, smooth as a bell. “If TigerClan still roamed these forests, _we_ would hardly have made our territory here, either.”

 

Graypaw tilted his head slightly, “Oof, haven’t heard this story in a while.” 

 

Nearby, a small apprentice piped up, “What’s TigerClan?” Immediately, a few cats turned to raise a brow at the youngster. Apparently the question was a no-brainer. Lionheart padded up to the small group and scolded the apprentice in mock disapproval.

 

“Don’t you know your history, little one? TigerClan was one of the great clans of the forest, along with LionClan and LeopardClan. We owe our night hunting ability to TigerClan, big as horses and jet black stripes. LeopardClan are the swiftest cats, huge and golden, spotted with black paw prints. You can thank LeopardClan for the speed and hunting skills you now possess, and our love of the sun and its warmth comes from LionClan. Huge and powerful with manes surrounding their faces.” 

 

Firepaw felt his tail straighten while Lionheart rambled. In his past (or future) during the brief period where he'd inhabited StarClan before being sent back in time, he encountered cats that had near exactly fit the description Lionheart had depicted. Though a brief wave of confusion passed over Firepaw for a moment. Weren't there four cats...? 

 

Lionheart took a pause from his ramble and stared down at the unusually small apprentice, “You’re a ShadowClan apprentice aren’t you? How many moons old are you?”

 

“S-six moons.” He avoided the golden warrior’s gaze like the plague. After a scrutinizing silence, Lionheart suspiciously mumbled.

 

“Rather small for six moons.” 

 

Instead of sticking around, knowing Firepaw would find some way or another to intervene and attempt to interrogate the apprentice for evidence of Brokenstar’s treachery, he bounded over to where Ravenpaw sat, surrounded by a small circle of apprentices. He was mid-story, weaving vivid imagery and varying voices into his storytelling elements for effect. Quirking a little half smile, Firepaw admitted that he felt proud of his friend, slowly but surely emerging from his anxious and timid shell to open up to new cats and new experiences. 

 

Ravenpaw swished his tail and flipped between stances and poses representing actions in the story as he spoke, “Fur was flying everywhere. Blood spattered the leaves of the bramble bushes, bright red against green. I’d just fought off this _huge_ warrior and sent him squealing into the bushes when the ground shook, and I heard a warrior scream. It _was… -!”_

 

Uh oh. 

 

Firepaw knew where this was going and quickly slapped a tail over his friend’s mouth. He didn’t quite balance out the consequences yet, but for now, anything was better than allowing Ravenpaw to accidentally set himself up for danger again. Confused, Ravenpaw spit a few of his friend’s hairs out of his mouth and began to ask what he was doing when Firepaw hurriedly whispered in his ear. 

 

“Not now, someone’s watching.” Ravenpaw froze, blinking in disbelief and slowly turned his neck and shoulders to meet the eyes of Tigerclaw from where they burned into the back of his head. Both cats could feel something heavy drop in their stomachs, and Ravenpaw swallowed thickly, turning back to the slightly confused crowd. 

 

“And… a-and then… uh-” 

 

A loud yowl indicating the beginning of the gathering had luckily cut him off, Ravenpaw nearly gasping in relief. Graypaw eventually joined them, questioning their stricken appearances as Firepaw promised to explain later. 

 

For now, there was a meeting to pay attention to. Three clan leaders sat straight upon the Highrock, their silhouettes prominent with the backdrop of the moon’s rays clinging to their fur. It seems that they were going to begin without WindClan, anyways.

 

Bluestar was the first to speak, standing to silence the crowd and command attention, “Cats of all Clans, welcome,” she meowed in a clear voice. “It is true that WindClan is not present, but Brokenstar wishes to speak anyway.” If there was any distaste in her voice, she hid it excellently. 

 

Brokenstar slowly stood, scanning over the gathered cats before speaking, “Friends, I come to you tonight to speak about the needs of ShadowClan-”

 

Immediate disruption. Cats yowled in indignation demanding for the presence of WindClan, much to the chagrin of Brokenstar himself. After an agitated yowl from the cat, the crowd quieted once more.

 

“As leader of ShadowClan it is my right to address you here!” Menace and fury seeped into his voice, Firepaw tasting the faint trace of fear in the air. His yowling continued, “We all know that the hard time of leaf-bare, and late newleaf, have left us with little prey in our hunting grounds. But we also know that WindClan, RiverClan, and ThunderClan lost many kits in the freezing weather that came so late this season. ShadowClan did not lose kits. We are hardened to the cold north wind. Our kits are stronger than yours from the moment they are born. And so we find ourselves with many mouths to feed, and too little prey to feed them.”

 

He’s heard all of this before and frankly he’s not impressed by Brokenstar’s display of artificial empathy and desperation for his clan. By the looks of his deputy’s sleek pelt and toned body, it wasn’t so much a problem of typical lack of prey as it was disorganization and corruption within his clan. The small amount of Firestar in his mind, that little leader self speaking in his mind urged Firepaw to call Brokenstar out on the stand, but common sense told him to wait until the timing was right. He was merely an apprentice, though the only one who knew what was yet to come. 

 

Graypaw nudged him once more, snapping Firepaw out of his thoughts again. He looked slightly worried but Firepaw couldn’t fathom why. 

 

Brokenstar continued, “The needs of ShadowClan are simple. In order to survive, we must increase our hunting territory. That is why I insist that you allow ShadowClan warriors to hunt in your territories.”

 

So, of course, the whole Gathering _loses it._

 

Yowls, snaps, sneers, growls, any form of hostile vocality was expressed accompanied with flattened ears and a field of unsheathed claws. Above them, a cloud threatened to cover the sky. 

 

“Should ShadowClan be punished because our kits thrive?” yowled Brokenstar from his position on the rock in an attempt to quiet the crowd, “Do you want us to watch our young starve? You must share what you have with us.”

 

“Must!” spat Smallear furiously and mockingly from the back of the crowd.

 

“Must,” repeated Brokenstar. “WindClan failed to understand this. In the end, we were forced to drive them out of their territory.” Immediate snarls of outrage burst from the crowd, but Brokenstar’s caterwaul rang loud above them: “And, if we have to, we will drive you all from your hunting grounds in order to feed our hungry kits.”

 

Instant silence. Satisfied that he had every cat’s attention, Brokenstar continued. “Each year, the humans spoil more of our territory. At least one Clan must remain strong, if all the Clans are to survive. ShadowClan thrives while you all struggle. And there may come a time when you will need us to protect you. Bear this in mind: Would you prefer to share your prey, or be driven out and left homeless and starving?”

 

Crookedstar reveals his acceptance of Shadowclan onto RiverClan territory, to the horror of his nonconsulted clanmates. Bluestar on the other paw, coolly agrees to consult her clan and agrees to nothing. Graypaw snorts, though its comedy is mainly lost in the sea of worry and tension that ripples through the crowd of cats.

 

Brokenstar spoke up again, his rasping voice sounding arrogant and strong after Crookedstar’s surrender. “I also bring news that is important to the safety of your kits. A ShadowClan cat has turned rogue and spurned the warrior code. We chased her out of our camp, but we do not know where she is now. She looks a mangy old creature, but she has a bite like TigerClan…”

 

There it was. Firepaw was practically waiting for the corrupt leader to mention Yellowfang throughout the entire meeting. Not bothering to wait around for his clanmates or to listen to any other comments Brokenstar has to make, he quietly backs out of view while his clan is whispering and panicking amongst themselves.

 

Before he slips out of the Gathering, Firepaw turns his head back to Brokenstar, knowing this will soon pass.

 

He sprints back to camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted ravenpaw to begin developing slightly, some things in this timeline are changed and firepaw and graypaw's support is helping him for the most part. momma yellowfang and momma bluestar are in action, and apprentices will be apprentices.
> 
> "tigerclaw is a pompous pile of mousecrap" becomes the new penis game where u say it louder and louder until someone gets in trouble and loses lol i put that in there randomly because some of the kids in my neighborhood would play it when i'm writing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> too,, tired,,,, 2 proofread. HOOOOOOOOOH
> 
> on the bright side, i am pretty proud of this part mainly because of the progress i'm beginning to carve out of the plot. this is a pretty dustpaw and firepaw -centric chapter! 
> 
> I think there's only one or two more chapters until we finish the into the wild arc! instead of breaking this into a series of ao3 fics per warriors book, i'm going to just include everything in this single fic to make things easier for me personally. anyways, happy reading!

Cats who remained at camp left their silence behind as Firepaw was greeted with an empty ThunderClan. _Everyone must’ve been sleeping,_ he thought to himself before approaching Yellowfang’s nest where she snored loudly. Hurriedly nudging her awake, Firepaw avoided a sheathed swat to the nose, “Yellowfang not now, at the gathering he-” He huffed, taking a second to breathe again, “Brokenstar-” 

 

That got her awake and alert quickly enough. Almost instantly, the she cat pulled her tired and healing body to a sitting position while Firepaw heaved little breaths, “That name is one I’d rather not hear for many moons.” 

 

Her amber eyes flickered over Firepaw’s exhausted frame, racking from his lungs attempting to gather as much oxygen as they possibly could without bursting. Perhaps sprinting all the way to camp was sort of overdoing it. Yellowfang sighed, “Considering you’ve run all the way from Fourtrees to meet me, it must be important. But seriously kit, you’re going to kill yourself if you try to speak like this. Whatever you want to say can wait until you’ve caught your breath.” 

 

Taking the quipped notion to heart, Firepaw gave himself a moment to simply breathe before trying to speak again. At least this time, his parched throat wasn’t causing him to choke on his own air, “Brokenstar warned ThunderClan of a rogue, and the entire camp is going wild about it. They think it’s you.” 

 

“Of course they think it’s me. Typical.” Yellowfang growled, her ears flattened against her head and tail swishing angrily. After a moment she hesitated- though covered it up before Firepaw could take note of it, “They really believed him?”

 

Firepaw nodded, sitting down next to her. After a brief second, he replied, “When they get here, they’ll want to hurt you. I have faith in Bluestar, but you should focus on protecting yourself. I’m going to be here too, so-” 

 

Yellowfang struggled to her paws, tired bones and wounds aching, “Don’t even think about it, kit. You believe I’m innocent, right? That’s all that matters. Well, that and the fact that Bluestar will give a fair trial.” 

 

Cacophony of outraged yowls and angered cats approached the camp. Immediately Yellowfang butted Firepaw’s side with her head, nudging him towards the camp entrance, “Go away, Firepaw. Don’t make trouble for yourself by being seen with me now; there is nothing you can do at this point. Have faith in your leader, and let her decide what happens.”

 

Instead of leaving, Firepaw sat his behind down and refused to budge. No matter how many increasingly frustrated nudges it took, he remained right there. Yellowfang growled, “Quit being a mousebrain and get out of here!”

 

“Nope.” 

 

“You’re killing me. An actual apprentice is killing me. Come on Firepaw, seriously, if you give a group enough ambition they’ll destroy what they don’t understand. You’re gonna get punished or hurt.” Yellowfang seemed exasperated at this point, once even opting to pick him up by the scruff and drop him behind the warriors’ den until he simply returned to the same spot. 

 

“I’m a stubborn cat! A stubborn, not-budging cat. ThunderClan shouldn’t hurt you if one of their own is in the way.” Firepaw mewled in a matter of fact style. He was given a deadpan stare in response. It seemed like Yellowfang had a reply on the tip of her tongue but she held it back. To be fair, he knew perfectly well how awkward and distanced he was from the other members of the clan. _“One of their own”_ was a bit of a stretch, but hopefully it wouldn’t be as time passed. 

 

The tunnel of gorse rustled and out streamed the cats of the Gathering, led by Bluestar and Lionheart. A circle of accusatory stares soon formed around the two cats, leaving Firepaw with the sensation of being small and shrunken while surrounded by persecuting towers. His leader weaved her path toward the center of the circle. 

 

“Really, Firepaw?” Their stares met briefly, one of challenge and one of defense. Outside the shell of Gathering cats, ThunderClan slowly woke. Runningwind slipped from his den, curiously gazing at the commotion and asking the nearest cat what had exactly transpired at this last meeting. 

 

Meanwhile, Darkstripe struggled to remove Yellowfang from her nest; a quick yowl from the roughhousing had Firepaw breaking the stare-off and worriedly bounding over to block the old cat from Darkstripe’s reach. A sigh from his leader preceded her quiet message as she passed him to reach the Highrock, “Meet me inside my den after this fiasco is over.” 

 

***

 

Bluestar had efficiently shut down the cats that wished to harm their prisoner and reproached those that accused Yellowfang of the crimes Brokenstar listed. Summarizing it in the most blunt matter she could, Bluestar ended her scoldings with, _“The bitter mollie stays.”_

_“Hot mousedung, suck it Darkstripe.”_

Firepaw anxiously waited in the leader’s den while Bluestar began assigning battle preparation tasks to the rest of the clan. Upon her return, she wasted no time cutting to the chase, “What in StarClan were you thinking, Firepaw? You’re loyal to this clan, aren’t you?” 

 

“Well, yes. Of course! But I wasn’t going to stand around when Brokenstar mentioned the rogue. The entire clan looked like they were itching for a target, I wasn’t going to let a cat without a trial get hurt by our clan.” Firepaw reasoned with her, attempting to diffuse the situation. Bluestar narrowed her eyes and looped her argument to her main point.

 

“A noble idea, but as my apprentice I expected better. Have you no faith in this clan?” She swished her tail, face stoic and cool yet her body language betraying agitation, “There’s a difference between warning a _cat_ and warning a _criminal._ ” 

 

A frown, “Bluestar, kindly, you and I both know Yellowfang is far from a criminal. She may be prisoner at this camp, but who’s to say she actually committed a crime?” He felt his chest fur puff up, intimidation from his leader ruffling his pelt, “She’s not really a prisoner. The only thing keeping her here is her wounds and the lack of a real home.” 

 

She was nearly caught off guard. Nearly. “Firepaw I’m asking you again, though you make interesting and valid points. I’m not mad about the fact that you wanted to warn Yellowfang,” Firepaw was surprised. _Wait, seriously?_ Her silver muzzle twitched, momentarily revealing worry, “I’m just upset by the fact that you’d carry so little faith in these warriors. These are your companions, why turn them against you?”

 

He took pause in this question. In the past, Firestar led this clan. Firestar was the one who had managed to earn their respect and faith in his leadership. While he understands that his mind is the same and this is still his ThunderClan, Firepaw doesn’t feel like Firestar. Something’s changed, leaving a knot in his chest. Even saying “Firestar” in his own mind seems… foreign. As if he hadn’t truly earned it. 

 

“I… well.” He shifted his paws, suddenly under the scrutiny of his leader. He remembered a thought he carried earlier, about how prepared he was. How secured he was in how he was going to prove to Bluestar after assessments that he was truly loyal in this clan. That he really belonged here, in ThunderClan. 

 

And now in the face of the skeptic herself, he had no idea what to say. 

 

“ThunderClan will always be my home, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.” That was a decent start, okay, good. “The forest is a place where I feel as if I’m actually using my life. It’s, um. Well it’s just- I don’t want to describe it but it still feels like I’m surrounded by unfamiliar cats.” 

 

“It’s been a good few moons though, hasn’t it? Enough time for you to feel somewhat more familiar with your surroundings and your peers?” Technically it’s been many years, countless moons spent in this little corner of the Earth. Technically, Firepaw had gotten to befriend and understand his clanmates and even cats in other clans. He’d been able to feel them. 

 

But that was in the past. Now in his newfound apprentice life an entire universe away, Firepaw felt the distance grow between him and ThunderClan and the forest. So much so that he couldn’t even reach them. Every time he settled in his nest at night, old recollections of hunting next to Sandstorm or talking to his friend and deputy Whitestorm drifted a little further from his sight. 

 

Jolted into another time, Firepaw is surrounded by strangers.

 

Returning back to the conversation, Firepaw sighed, “Yeah, it has.” 

 

Bluestar gives him a final, scrutinizing look before apparently finding what she needed and dropping the subject. There’s no further discussion on it as she changes the topic to spare her weary apprentice, “I’m travelling to the Moonstone tomorrow, considering this is a tense time for ThunderClan. I’ll need their strength and advice to make it through the coming tides, though I’ll need a few escorts. Firepaw, you and a few other apprentices will accompany me to Highstones tomorrow. It’s a long journey, so get some rest, kit.” 

 

Firepaw dipped his head in acknowledgement, stepping outside the den as he understood the dismissing tone in his leader’s voice. Part of him wonders if Bluestar noticed herself using Yellowfang’s weird nickname for him at the end of her talk. 

 

He barely acknowledges Dustpaw’s eager question of what happened at the gathering before Firepaw drops from his feet into his bedding. In the apprentices’ den, he quickly drifts off to the excited whispers of Graypaw, Sandpaw, and Dustpaw. 

 

***

 

“Ugh, ew.”

 

“Well of course they’re never pleasant, herbs are usually pretty bitter, Firepaw!” Spottedleaf snorted, watching the ginger stick his tongue out. Early in the morning, Firepaw woke before the rest of his denmates because he decided to get a head start on the day. 

 

… That was a lie. He was actually shocked into the waking world due to nightmares and messages from StarClan. Now that he was running through the symbols a second time, Firepaw was able to pick out the little details of their ever confusing prophecies. A dream laced with violence and screaming warriors, the heavy scent of blood in the air and scuffling claws of battle. Graypaw’s grief stricken yowl shook him into existence once more. For once, he decided to run directly to Bluestar and interpret the truth in his dreams, yet the warning fell upon deaf ears. Was he just meant to handle this on his own?

 

Silently chewing on the rest of the super gross herbs, Firepaw’s eyes downcast onto his paws, shuffling dew damp soil and grass around. Spottedleaf seemed to notice this behavior as she nosed his cheek, causing him to glance up, “What’s itching you, little one?” 

 

He had missed her genuine sweet nature and comforting presence. The first medicine cat that Firepaw had ever been introduced to was akin to that of an apprenticeship affection. He was far past his previous fleeting intimacies, but Spottedleaf would always be a trusted friend, and that was enough for him. Firepaw shook his head, “No, it’s just some, uh, moral dilemma I’ve been thinking about. A hypothetical one.” 

 

Spottedleaf gave him a questionable look, tentatively twitching a whisker in thought, “Well, lay it down for me. What’s the dilemma?” She rested on her stomach, settling into place to listen.

 

Struggling to put his situation into words, he took a moment to think, “So, um. Okay I think I got it- so say you’re a cat that can see the future, but everything’s so clear- StarClan always makes things like prophecies so confusing and incomprehensible to the point where no one knows what it’s about until it comes true anyways.” 

 

Spottedleaf waved her tail, “Firepaw, I think you’re veering off topic.” 

 

“Oh, whoops. But yeah, say this does happen. The problem is that you can’t tell anyone or else they may just think you’re crazy or something,” Firepaw knows he’s rambling again, for some reason Spottedleaf doesn’t stop him this time and instead adopts a serious expression on her face. Her eyes are focused but they seem as if they’re seeing something else entirely. He continues.

 

“The thing is that you’re not crazy, and it’s serious because someone’s life is on the line. But- well they’re kind of supposed to die? You don’t want them to though, but you’re afraid that if you cause one leaf to shift in the forest, it’ll lead to a storm on the other side of the territories. I hope that sort of makes sense. I don’t want anyone to die, so how do I cause the least amount of damage while still keeping this cat from passing to StarClan too soon?” He spent all the air in his lungs trying to convey this situation of his, but in the end it probably still seems convoluted and confusing. 

 

Spottedleaf’s tail smacks onto the ground with an audible thump, “So… you mean something like changing fate to save a life, but being afraid of the risks it could cause?” She laughs, it’s trying to hard to be genuine, “You’re throwing me for a loop here, Firepaw. I’m almost convinced that you’re speaking from experience!” 

 

Firepaw expected her to dismiss the entire idea completely or at least laugh it off and give a simple enough answer. He didn’t expect her to hide something behind that laugh. Was it awkwardness? StarClan knows how awkward Firepaw can be sometimes, but that didn’t seem to be the case, “Spottedleaf, are you okay? It seems like you keep thinking about something.” 

 

Turns out he found the maggot in the meat. For a brief moment she seemed to be searching for an excuse before sighing, “Okay, I can’t actually hide anything from you. It’d be too suspicious anyways. It’s just that your situation is almost scarily similar to someone I used to know as a kit and in training. There was this old cat- Goosefeather. He used to be one of ThunderClan’s medicine cats before my mentor Featherwhisker took over. 

 

Everyone in the clan was convinced that he was going mad, seeing false prophecies and futures but still being helpless to change them when they ended up being true in the end. He’s gone now, it was something foul that we couldn’t treat. Happens to elders sometimes, their minds slowly scramble and it’s just a matter of time.” 

 

She suddenly blinked, “Huh, look at who’s getting off topic now. I’m not so sure why I rambled this much, maybe because for once someone’s really listening! Either way, the situations are pretty close, right?” 

 

The abrupt cheerfulness in her voice nearly gave Firepaw a sense of whiplash. It was still an appreciated break from the seriousness though. Spottedleaf sat up and stretched before preparing more herbs for the cats that were to go on the trip, “But if I’m hearing your pretend-”

 

“Hypothetical!”

 

“Your _hypothetical_ situation correctly, it seems like the only thing holding you back is your own fear of change, isn’t it? You’re no Goosefeather, dummy. If you were given this chance to alter someone’s fate, why wouldn’t you try your hardest to make this happen? StarClan gives prophecies for a reason.” That was… actually really sensible. Firepaw blinked, wondering if he was really his own biggest obstacle here. Apparently Spottedleaf found that amusing and went back to her snorting and bell-like laughter once again. 

 

“Take these to the other cats that’ll be accompanying you with Bluestar, okay? Stay safe for me and come back home soon! I need a little buddy that I can actually talk to!” Waving her tail in farewell, Firepaw carefully carried the bundles with his teeth and nodded back to ThunderClan’s medicine cat. 

 

Even through the time he woke from his fitful rest to that discussion, the sky still sat drowned in the moon’s veil. The crows and birds in the forest just beginning to wake. Across the clearing, Sandpaw and Dustpaw yawned, emerging from their den. Firepaw paused to drop the bundle when Sandpaw gave him a questioning look, “You’re up bright and early, kitty. Got places to be? Humans to befriend?” 

 

Ignore it, “These herbs are for whoever’s going to the trip to the Moonstone, do you guys know who else is going?” 

 

Straightaway, Dustpaw narrowed his eyes, “Wait, what do you mean _who else-?”_

 

Whitestorm popped up behind them, managing to sneak by without notice from Firepaw or Dustpaw (but with a knowing glance from his apprentice), “Apprentice trip! Except me, I’m not an apprentice. But you, Firepaw, and Sandpaw are- and I’m coming with you guys as well. All five of us, including Bluestar, are going to Mothermouth.”

 

If Firepaw could describe the mutual feeling that was shared by every apprentice awake at that moment, it was imminent dread and fear. An entire round trip beyond the territories with the single group of apprentices that couldn’t get along at all. 

 

Dustpaw shared a look of disgust with Sandpaw, “Seriously?” 

 

The response was quick, “Yes, seriously. Bluestar wants to work on effective teamwork and intra-clan relationships, starting with you bunch. The more united the clan feels, the better we can work together to tackle whatever’s coming our way.” Whitestorm ended the discussion, asking the apprentices to eat their share of herbs. While watching them, Firepaw flinched at the stare Dustpaw was fixing him with. Why was he so hostile? 

 

Said cat huffed after swallowing the tart herbs, “I don’t think it’s a matter of clan unity as it is a single weak link bringing down the group.” 

 

“Your fur looks as sleek as ever, Dustpaw, did you groom before joining us?” Sandpaw snorted at Firepaw’s lame retaliation while Dustpaw himself narrowed his eyes, seemingly equal parts confused and angered. 

 

Lionheart bounded towards the tense group, “Safe journey everyone, you’re leaving now?” 

 

It was Bluestar that replied, “While the sun is still hidden from the sky, yes. We’ll need all the time we can spare.”

 

“Then remember your training, everyone. You’re all so close to being warriors.” The soft-hearted warrior purred and allowed the group to say their goodbyes as they left camp, onto their journey to the Moonstone. 

 

Their trail lined ThunderClan territory, leading up to Fourtrees where they took a brief break. Sandpaw and Firepaw began to bicker about hunting stances, while Dustpaw and Firepaw were… arguing? Well, sort of talking about something at least. Every insult was met with a compliment, knowing the addition of more anger would lead to a fallout that Firepaw would rather not have. 

 

Plus, it was always hilarious to see Dustpaw’s constipated and frustrated expressions. Even Sandpaw let out the occasional cackle at her friend’s loss of words. Whitestorm seemed amused at the youths while Bluestar observed the growing tension between Firepaw and Dustpaw. 

 

After the break was over began the long trek across WindClan, which left no room for petty arguments. During the brief stretch of travel, the mood settling over the five cats was nothing other than somber. There was a vacancy in left what should have been full, a camp left empty and a territory left abandoned for the crows to pick at. 

 

“Oh, we’re nearing the Thunderpath. This is your first time crossing it, right, Firepaw?” Whitestorm nudged Firepaw. He was surprised at the sudden attention, wishing he could just zone out for a bit more without the expectation of speaking. 

 

“A-ah yeah, this is my first time.” Not. But according to everyone else, it is. Every time he crossed this sea of stench he felt as if the hair was about to be shaved off of his spine. The small group continued to travel forward, Dustpaw and Sandpaw pulling ahead of him and occasionally glancing back. 

 

“Keep up, kitty! Who knows where we might lose you.” Sandpaw snickered. 

 

Skirting a human home, the siren of dogs began to shake the fence and shock the small travelling party. Firepaw let out a little sigh of relief, “Oh, they’re fenced in.” 

 

“Fence?” Dustpaw let the word drop as if it were a piece of crowfood. He laughed nervously in response. 

 

“Yeah a, uh, human thing. It doesn’t matter for now.” Despite the dropped topic of discussion, Firepaw still felt the occasional turned glance from Dustpaw. Whitestorm and Bluestar observed their interaction and whispered amongst themselves. 

 

A quick pace soon brought them to the track of monsters, the Thunderpath in constant rumble and turmoil. Heat and rubbery stench dripped off of the surface like morning dew and threatened to burn their noses. Whitestorm looked back and forth on the Thunderpath before nodding in confirmation.

 

“Okay, let’s cross one at a time. I’ll go first.” Waiting for the right moment, Whitestorm sprinted across the path in a blur after the passing of a monster. Bluestar soon followed. 

 

“Don’t kill yourself, kitty.” Sandpaw warned Firepaw unexpectedly after giving him a look down. Without time to think about the meaning of her words, her sandy fur danced across the black sea. At least she was safe on the other side. 

 

Dustpaw frowned, watching the entire exchange. As if pressuring himself to butt forward, he scooted past Firepaw, “Let me show you how it’s really done.” 

 

“Wait, Dustpaw!” The alarm from the other side caused the two apprentices who hadn’t yet crossed to snap their gazes upwards. For once, a monster began to veer off of its path, bouncing and approaching at breakneck speed toward them. Without thought, Firepaw bowled both of them over and the large creature passed over them. 

 

Blood roared in his ears, Firepaw and Dustpaw trembling from the near death encounter. After a moment to settle themselves and register the fact that _yes, okay, we’re still alive,_ Dustpaw flinched at the close contact and jumped away.

 

“U-ugh, don’t touch me!” He was avoiding a sad gaze from greenleaf eyes. 

 

“Whatever you want.” Firepaw mumbled, tired of the entire typical exchange. They crossed safely and moved onward, the entire rest of the trip quiet other than the occasional attempts at lightheartedness by Sandpaw. Her mentor bumped her side gently in thanks. 

 

Bluestar stopped in her tracks and looked back at the apprentices, “Look,” She tilted her head in the direction of a craggy slope ahead of her, “Mothermouth.”

 

Earth’s sun began to take it’s slumber, the last licks of light seeping into the ground. Whitestorm observed the scene peacefully while the rest of the party occupied themselves until it was time for the moon to crawl to the sky. 

 

Deciding to make themselves useful, the group hunted for prey and settled into their own little groups. He expected Dustpaw to sit with Sandpaw, but apparently there were still surprises around the corner. She gave the two a curious glance before shrugging and eating her own food.

 

While gnawing at his mouse, Dustpaw grumbled, “What the heck is your problem?” 

 

That gave Firepaw some pause, “What’s _my_ problem? You’ve been the one trying to insult me this entire trip! What do you mean by that?” 

 

“Because you’re not a- a real warrior blooded clan cat! Duh!” He seemed to be attempting to convince himself of this fact at the same time, “No, what I really mean is why have you just been trying to flatter me when I’m making jabs at you. What kind of cat are you, huh? Is this sort of a kittypet thing?” 

 

Firepaw's eyes narrowed; his “companion” was really testing his patience. Firepaw knew he should’ve been better than to get riled up by matters such as this but, “No, it’s a common sense thing.”

 

“Well whatever it is, it’s annoying me!” 

 

“Jeez, stop acting like a kit!” 

 

_“What did you just-?”_

 

Whoops, it was time for a voice of reason to step in, it seems. Sandpaw snapped at the two from her side of the group, “Good StarClan _above!_ Hey, are you two just naturally mousebrained? Or did the monster on the Thunderpath do some kind of magic to make both of you that immature and stupid? Whatever it is, I’m sure you can continue this argument without annoying the rest of us!” 

 

Were they really that loud? According to a quick glance around and meeting the eyes of their leader and Whitestorm, it was almost definitely confirmed that Dustpaw and Firepaw had probably scared the prey around them in a fifty tail length radius. Too ashamed to finish their squabble, the rest of the time spent was done in silence. 

 

Thankfully, the moon had decided to show her face before it got too awkward. Bluestar stretched from her spot and flicked an ear, “It’s time to go. Firepaw, you and Whitestorm accompany me inside. Sandpaw and Dustpaw, you two will guard the entrance for enemies.” 

 

He felt a quick flash of relief. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t messed up too bad. With a brief nod to Whitestorm, the travel into the cave was spent slightly stumbling around and attempting to find Bluestar’s voice. No matter how often he did this before, it was still a bumpy ride every time. Cold and damp air wrapped around their bones and the energy radiating from the walls of the cave reverberated around them. After a few minutes, fresh air had finally reached them. 

 

“Oh, we’re here. This is the cavern of the Moonstone,” Bluestar began calmly, “Just wait, moonhigh will be approaching soon. 

 

And it did. Blinding flashes of white light caused Firepaw to flinch and squeeze his eyes shut. Perfectly aligned with the center of the brightened cave, sat the glistening Moonstone in all her glory. Petals of pure dew making up it’s cold body. 

 

Whitestorm nudged Firepaw, “How do you feel?” 

 

“Absolutely curious.” That earned him a snort. 

 

Bluestar rested her head on the stone, nose touching its star-like surface and drifting off into slumber. 

 

“She’s sharing dreams with StarClan.” Whitestorm quietly mentioned, as to not wake their sleeping leader. They spent the passing few minutes watching, waiting in suspenseful silence. Firepaw felt a weight in his paws; she was about to receive the warning that her clan was in danger. 

 

True to his memory, she snapped her eyes open as the brilliant light began to fade, “We.. we have to go. Now. Back to camp.” 

 

They hurriedly paced out of the cave and burst out at once, alarming Sandpaw and Dustpaw. It seems that Dustpaw momentarily forgot to hate him again, “Hey, hey, what’d you see?” 

 

***

 

Well, at least the Thunderpath was quiet enough. Their awkward travelling party crossed easily and sprinted towards the edge of the human homes before being stopped by a particularly pudgy but muscled cat, smudged with black and white and pacing the edge of a cornfield. Uh, Firepaw feels immense guilt from having to ask this of himself, but what was his name again?

 

“Barley!” Oh, yeah, there it is. Sandpaw’s hackles were raised before Bluestar calmly alerted her by setting her tail on the other’s back, “Don’t be alarmed, this loner is Barley, a friend of mine who lives nearby.” 

 

Barley mewed amicably, “Hey, Bluestar. It’s been some time since I’ve seen anyone from your clan, how are you?” 

 

“Well, thank you. I wish I could keep up the friendly exchange and ask you the same, but we’re in a massive hurry.” Understanding, Barley moved out of the clan cats’ way.

 

“Don’t let me hinder you, then. I’m just here to give you a quick warning. These human nearby brought a nasty set of dogs with them; they’re released at night, so you’re safer going through the cornfield than outside the houses.” He flicked his tail as the group passed him, nodding in thanks. Bluestar stayed behind a moment longer to brush her pelt against his.

 

“We appreciate your warning, thank you. Until next time, Barley.” 

 

“Have a safe journey!”

 

Dustpaw frowned, “Really, we’re just going to… accept the word of a loner like that?” Whitestorm gently cuffed him by the ear in reprimand.

 

“Oh, you’re raised better than this. Would you rather risk facing corn or a dog? The words of an outsider shouldn’t be taken with a grain of sand all the time, we were all loners once.” 

 

Ducking into the field, their surroundings were nothing but golden stalks and the occasional shift of soil. The moon had begin its slow slide into the earth's horizon. Firepaw remained on his guard, jumping at the slightest rustle. Barley surely meant no harm when he guided the party into the cornfield, but the tip was still at the expense of one of his leader’s lives and Firepaw took Spottedleaf’s advice to heart.

 

Whitestorm paused and sniffed the air curiously, “Wait-”

 

A bitter stench and approaching squeals preceded the flood of rats as they emerged from their covers and swarmed the five cats. Before anyone had time to yell, they were assaulted by the small menaces. On their own, rats were easy enough to handle; it was when they arrived in indistinguishable mobs that truly made them death traps. 

 

Bluestar’s drowned yowls brought Firepaw to attention, scrambling to yank the rats that covered her fur like heavy moss. They ripped away from her thrashing form, bringing bits of flesh and blood with them, clenched in their tiny teeth. Firepaw himself began to struggle under the encompassing attack, rats biting into his back and shoulder. 

 

It felt as if no matter how hard he attempted to deplete their numbers, the swarm simply arrived en masse once more; sort of similar to a tale his mother used to tell in a distant memory- a monster that could grow two heads for every one that was cut off. Behind him, Sandpaw yelped as her tail was bombarded by a heavy group, pinning her to the spot. There were so many cats to keep track of- was everyone okay? 

 

Before scaring off more rats that were threatening to further wound his leader, sharp flashes of pain began to emerge from Firepaw’s ear. Desperately, he thrashed his head. Whipping it around he soon found that with every tug of weight on his injured ear, brought more torturous laceration. Scuttling menaces were flung off, but at the expense of his ear being torn. 

 

 _Haha, Longtail and I match, now._ He thought to himself, feeling exhaustion seep into his fur as his wounds and drained stamina began to catch up to him. Nearly dropping to his stomach, a vague white and black shape arrived. It was shaking the rats off of his little body and working with Whitestorm to protect Bluestar and the other apprentices. Barley you beautiful piece of fox dung. 

 

Slowly but gradually, fear emitted from the horde and rats were trickling away, retreating or dead. A groggy glance toward Dustpaw and Sandpaw indicated that they were plenty roughed up, but overall safe. Whitestorm’s snow white pelt was stained with streaks of red, thankfully not all of it belonged to him. With some difficulty, Barley brought a shaky and battered Bluestar to her feet as she heaved.

 

“Barley… thanks for stepping in.” He seemed to recoil at Bluestar’s kindness, guilt evident in his voice. 

 

“It was the least I could do.” 

 

Nodding her head, Bluestar slumped onto the ground, much to the alarm of the other cats. Firepaw’s mind was racing, how could he keep his leader from losing another life? While Whitestorm and Barley fretted and tried to find anything to help her, Dustpaw remained still, wide eyed and terrified. 

 

Sandpaw yelped, “What do we do, how can we stop the bleeding?” 

 

Immediately, Whitestorm dashed to search for cobwebs, soon returning with a decent bundle. Firepaw watched as he and Barley aimed to clot the bleeding, yet the cobwebs were loose and continued to slide with the blood. 

 

_“Firepaw what kind of bandage job is that? These cobwebs are fastened on so loosely that they may as well be ghosts. Specifically mine. My ghost. I’m haunting you for your terrible bandaging.”_

 

Yellowfang’s nagging shot through his mind. Of course that bitter old she-cat’s voice would be the one to ground him. Shouldering between Barley and Whitestorm, Firepaw took the cobwebs and applied them as Yellowfang had showed him. The other two quickly picked up on the method and followed suit. 

 

“Uh, what was it, what was it? Horse… something? Horsegold? Was that it?” Firepaw mumbled to himself. StarClan, he was terrible at this medicine cat thing. Whitestorm seemed to pick up on what he was struggling to remember and perked up. 

 

“Horsetail grows around here! Sandpaw, can you help find some?” Relieved by the fact that she was able to be useful, Sandpaw nodded and dove to search for any of the nettled stalks. 

 

Bluestar groaned, twitching beneath them. Barley sighed in relief, “It seems like she’s just unconscious.” 

 

Dustpaw managed to tear his frozen gaze from his leader to the loner, “But- but not the dying kind of unconscious, right?” 

 

His tabby body curled in on itself, crouched to make him seem as small as possible in the face of something too familiar yet too surprising every time. Suddenly filled with the recollection of Dustpaw’s passed mentor, Redtail, Firepaw felt an emotion he wasn’t able to name on the spot. Fixing them with a gentle shake of the head, Barley mewled, “No, not the dying kind of unconscious.”

 

***

 

“It took some time, but I got the horsetail.” Sandpaw’s tired mewl caused the resting ragtag group to look up. Green nettles were gently clamped between her jaws, whether to preserve their essence or prevent their bitter taste from seeping into her mouth, Firepaw didn’t know nor care. 

 

She dropped the bundle in front of Firepaw, surprisingly enough, “You, uh, seemed to know better than anyone how to handle wounds and stuff. I see you hanging around that old mange pelt trying to be a medicine cat.” 

 

Her insults lost their venom. Slightly squirming, Sandpaw seemed uncomfortable delivering him anything that wasn’t a snide comment, “Well, say something!” 

 

Firepaw snickered, “Thanks, Sandpaw.” 

 

Chewing horsetail was kind of gross, but he soon put himself to work, cleaning wounds that began to slow in their bleeding and adding poultices to them. There were still many to go through, though. 

 

“Dustpaw, help me out with this.” He called to the oddly quiet cat through the herbs in his mouth. Side by side, they worked in silence while Barley and Sandpaw left to hunt and Whitestorm rested a fair distance away. Occasionally, he pointed to an area that needed to be cleaned or a spot that needed a few more cobwebs. 

 

After a few minutes, Dustpaw broke the somber atmosphere, “I can’t believe I’m following the orders of a dumb kittypet. You’re not even a real ThunderClan cat!” 

 

Ah yes, he knew they were missing something. Choosing to ignore the sudden complaints, Firepaw just shook his head before applying more herbs to the leftover wounds, “I don’t want to do this right now, okay? Just- can you just chill out for once? This whole thing is getting kind of old, I know you don’t really believe the things you say.” 

 

Dustpaw hesitated, stumbling over his words, “Why would you assume _that?”_

 

A pause.

 

“Because it sounds like you’re forcing yourself to say mean things. It’s almost as if you’re forcing yourself to hate me.” That earned him a flinch. So maybe he was closer to the truth than he thought. 

 

“O-of course I hate you! You’re dumb and- and different, and-” 

 

“Those aren’t your words, though. Dustpaw look me in the eyes one more time and say something that Darkstripe didn’t just feed you. If you really hated me, you wouldn’t just use the same reason to taunt me every time.” He swished his tail, orange fur brushing the soil beneath their paws. 

 

It takes a few heartbeats of standing off, amber clashing with emerald. Whitestorm snoozed in the other side of the clearing and the world was silent other than soft snores, cornfield rustles, and the deep breaths of Bluestar. Eventually Dustpaw broke, mumbling, “You were just so easy to blame.”

 

He seemed tired now, less so an annoying cat filled with spite and more of a tired apprentice that’s been deprived of a friend for a while. The dam breaks and soon he’s spilling everything at once, “When you came, Redtail died and there wasn’t anyone else reasonable to talk to. Sandpaw is a great cat, but I feel like she puts these walls up around me- walls that she lets down around you for some reason. You were just bad luck too, bringing in strays and getting away with stunts that would get the rest of us punished for a moon.” 

 

Narrowing his eyes, Dustpaw continued, “Now I’m stuck with this dumb mentor that’s overly defensive of his bloodline because it’s all that he’s got. I think he’s power hungry too, but not ‘cause he actually wants to lead. I think it’s a validation kinda thing, or whatever. But I was dumb too and I needed an excuse to hate you, blame you for everything that was going wrong,” He shifted his paws, “Because I would feel guilty if I didn’t have a reason.” 

 

Well that was unexpected. Firepaw couldn’t find the words to immediately reply. Misinterpreting his silence, Dustpaw laughed bitterly, “Yeah, of course you wouldn’t get it. Whatever, it was dumb anyways. I don’t even know why I’m saying all of this.”

 

“Because for once, someone’s actually listening?” Firepaw cut in. He thought he saw Dustpaw flinch, but didn’t comment on it. 

 

Instead, they continued to work; both feeling themselves growing just a little more from the heart to heart. From Dustpaw, to Firepaw, to the unconscious body of ThunderClan’s leader. Wow, _gosh,_ that made things about five times more awkward.

 

On the bright side, Firepaw remembered the word for the emotion he was trying to express earlier.

 

Empathy.

 

Sandpaw soon returns with food, waking her mentor with the smell of fresh mice. Barley follows soon after, effectively waking Bluestar. And Bluestar just as effectively causes three apprentices, a warrior, and a loner to yelp in panic when she immediately begins to sprint towards ThunderClan again. 

 

They settle for carrying her back to camp as their leader was adamant on returning; Barley and Whitestorm travelling at a steady pace with Bluestar perched between them. The sun’s warmth begins to hug the forest as dawn marches forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> per usual, if anyone has any questions about the meaning behind specific scenes or lines, feel free to comment! or even just to leave a small note for me! i was pretty happy with how i ended this chapter phew, things are beginning to diverge.
> 
> i think dustpaw and sandpaw totally should have been on that moonstone trip, mainly because of apprentice seniority but also because we just don't get to know and love them as well as graypaw and ravenpaw. their character development is kind of hidden in the background during the series so i wanted to dedicate at least one chapter to them, this was mainly dustpaw-centric so i'm planning to write more about sandpaw later. firepaw's feeling more estranged from his clanmates than ever, so being able to hold a serious discussion like this was a step forward for him. proud of our boy! by the way, the reason why it was sandpaw and dustpaw instead of graypaw and ravenpaw escorting bluestar on the trip is because our best local bluemom decided that firepaw needed an extra push to get along with his clanmates, beginning with the cats he actually shares a den with lol.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAH THIS IS SO LATE! sorry guys, school's been kickin my ass! so here we are with chapter 5! I was a little dissatisfied with this chapter i'm not going to lie but i've already attempted revising it several times. hopefully you all enjoy it, i had fun writing a lot of the dialogue. it was very love hate in how difficult this was HOOH. 
> 
> ******* HEYYO THIS CHAPTER COMES WITH A FEW WARNINGS:  
> if you don't want to be spoiled by the warnings, just keep scrolling. if you're concerned by some of the content in this chapter, i made a quick list:  
> emetophobia  
> angst train begins here  
> death
> 
> thanks for reading!

Throughout the travel back home, Barley and Whitestorm struggled with carrying Bluestar across such a long stretch of travel. Eventually they breathed a sigh of relief when they recognized markings of ThunderClan territory. Sandpaw, the talented hunter of the group, suddenly paused, "Wait, does anyone hear that?"

 

The distant shriek of cats filled the air, sirens of battle. Bluestar immediately pulled herself out of Barley and Whitestorm's carry and sprinted towards camp, despite the party's protests. There was no other option than to sprint back to camp with her, and assist in the battlegrounds.

 

And a battleground it sure was.

 

Yowls cried in dissonance while cats whether from ShadowClan or ThunderClan brawled, tooth and claw. Bluestar huffed, a rat bite above the ridge of her eyes reopening and leaking blood into her left eye, eventually trickling down her silver muzzle, "Just as StarClan said."

 

"Bluestar, you're heavily injured. Take it easy!" Barley protested. Rather than heed his advice, Bluestar began to plunge into battle; she was taking names and kicking ShadowClan to bits. Groaning, Barley followed her into battle in an attempt to prevent her from getting too injured. Again.

 

The queens hissed outside of the nursery, clashing with a large ShadowClan tom. Power in numbers was used as their strategy, eventually wearing down the intruder. Darkstripe yowled in triumph over the injured body of another ShadowClan warrior as it hobbled away and out of camp. Firepaw spotted a quiet elder, Rosetail, being watched over by Ravenpaw. The two friends made eye contact, nodding to each other and once more diving into their respective fights. Tigerclaw was…

 

Well.

 

He was actually… _protecting_ Lionheart?

 

Blood slowly rolled off of his fur, his breaths indicating exhaustion. Tigerclaw's overpowering and intimidating form created a wall that separated several enemy warriors from the limp form of Lionheart behind him. Firepaw let out a shaking breath when the slight rise and fall of Lionheart's chest was still visible. It was too soon to celebrate however; Tigerclaw was still being chipped away at by several incoming blows from ShadowClan cats.

 

With a split second internal debate, Firepaw growled and set aside his hostility for reluctant compliance. His quick legs allowed him to burst through the group of attackers and skid to a halt next to the tabby.

 

"What are you doing here?! An incompetent apprentice such as yourself should be helping the elders!" Tigerclaw snapped while slashing at a nearby warrior. Firepaw's eye twitched slightly, frankly tired of Tigerclaw's annoying attitude that he could really do without at the moment.

 

"Whatever Tigerpelt, stop being stubborn and just accept the help." He heard Tigerclaw hiss at the purposeful use of the incorrect name as he batted away a smaller ShadowClan cat that seemed to be one of its premature apprentices. The ground was swept away from under him as a warrior managed to sink his teeth into one of Firepaw's legs, dragging him onto his back and raking his chest. Firepaw yelped, twisting his body around and flipping their positions. With a swift bite to his shoulder, the ShadowClan warrior was sent shrieking. They worked side by side, Lionheart being the only connecting goal between them.

 

As time passed, the grueling battle was soon reaching its end. Firepaw tiredly heaved breaths, his ginger pelt splashed with deep red (his blood or someone else's, he doesn't know). Graypaw delivered a final blow to another warrior, sending them off in a panic before joining Firepaw.

 

"What's up, buttercup? You're back early."

 

"Tell me about it." Firepaw's eyes drooped slightly as his body wobbled. Graypaw steadied him, concerned. Dismissing the momentary exhaustion, Firepaw stretched despite his muscles screaming in protest and set off to find Bluestar. On the other end of the clearing, she was tired but otherwise okay. Her gray fur was relatively messy and sticking out at awkward angles much akin to a kit. Barley waved his tail in greeting. Unlike literally every other cat in the clearing, he remained unharmed other than the occasional shallow scratch.

 

ThunderClan chased out the last of the ShadowClan cats and began to gather near the Highrock, sharing news and taking count of the living. Frostfur wove her way back through the crowd, followed by Yellowfang. The white queen stepped forward and addressed them. "Our kits are all safe, thanks to Yellowfang. She fought off a ShadowClan warrior in the nursery to protect them."

 

"It was no ordinary ShadowClan warrior either," Firepaw put in. He was determined to help Yellowfang gain the acceptance she deserved, "It was Blackfoot."

 

Murmurs of shock and disbelief traveled through the crowd. Firepaw leaves them to an awkwardly nodding Yellowfang and makes his way toward Lionheart, whom Spottedleaf is intensely tending to. Her paws are in constant fluid motion, from applying cobwebs to applying poultices and licking blood and fur away.

 

He hesitantly asks, "Is- is he…?" She sends him a look that nearly gives him a heart attack.

 

"He's pretty bad in shape, the injuries were extensive," Spottedleaf shook her head, "But the geezer is still kicking. This dumb, death defying cat. Lionheart's going to be out of commission for a while, but he'll be fine."

 

He'll be fine. It takes all of his willpower not to sob right there and then. Forcing himself to avert his gaze, as if letting Lionheart out of his sight would automatically kill him, Firepaw soon joins his friends and Yellowfang.

 

Graypaw mewled, "My mentor nearly gave me a heart attack, but I'm glad he's okay." His tone practically overflowed in pride and adoration. Firepaw's tail waved, near estatic.

 

After Lionheart was relocated to the medicine den, Bluestar was finally receiving proper treatment for her wounds. She chuckled as Spottedleaf scolded her for overexerting herself, slapping poultices over wounds and spitting words between the leaves she was chewing, "I can't believe you'd dive into battle directly after being attacked by rats! If you weren't so injured already I'd be tempted to kick your leaderly behind all the way to Fourtrees."

 

Spottedleaf huffed, applying the last few cobwebs to Bluestar's wounds and grumbled, "You're lucky Firepaw knew some basic medicine aid! Who knows what state you'd be in if you let those bites go untreated!"

 

Yellowfang, who had been the recipient of several thanks and praise before, was healing alongside Spottedleaf nearby. She flicked an ear at the news, "You were the one that dressed Bluestar's wounds?"

 

A hesitant nod. Yellowfang fixed Bluestar's injuries with a scrutinizing look, "Well, it wasn't terrible. I'll give you that."

 

"Aw. _Awwww!_ You're praising me?" Firepaw joked, considering how strict Yellowfang usually was with him. He still took the compliment to heart, though. She recoiled immediately.

 

"Hey! Don't push your luck!"

 

"Oh, I would never." He did almost every day and both of them knew that.

 

Seeing the camp slowly settle down, a sense of peace washed over him and his bones. Also a wave of exhaustion. Definitely feeling the fatigue and physical pain of battle now that the mid-battle adrenaline was finally wearing away. Cats had simply become moving blurs while Firepaw groaned, wobbling and unsteadiness returning. Without Graypaw to steady him, his legs gave out from under him and he collided with the ground.

 

"Firepaw? H-hey, _Firepaw!_ You mousebrained kit, why didn't you get any treatment for those wounds?! I'm going to punt your fluffy tail to ShadowClan territory by the time you recover!" Yellowfang growled furiously while licking his wounds clean, though the slight wobble in her tone betrayed genuine worry.

 

Forgetting to treat himself after the rat battle and then battling ShadowClan without sleep sucked the energy out of him. Firepaw mumbled near unintelligibly before closing his eyes, "Don't kick me to ShadowClan," he groaned, "I can't stand your son."

 

The last thing he heard before passing out was the sharp intake of breath.

 

***

 

Above him, a crack in the medicine cat's den allowed for the smallest sliver of light to hit Firepaw's eyes. His nose twitched, irritated by the sudden brightness. Eventually he squeezed his eyelids closed tightly before reopening them.

 

"Rise and shine, mousebrain. You've been in here for a good two days." Yellowfang's annoyed voice greeted him. In an attempt to greet her back, Firepaw struggled to sit up before she bounded across the den and stopped him.

 

"Quit it! Do you _want_ to make your wounds even worse? Just rest there and I'll fill you in." His apparent caretaker began to update Firepaw on recent events in the clan that he had missed. Yellowfang was now a welcomed member of ThunderClan, the news causing Firepaw to purr happily. Lionheart was still unconscious, but seemed to be showing signs of improvement. Firepaw glanced at the golden warrior's sleeping form deeper inside the medicine cat's den, snoozing peacefully. Apparently Barley was still in camp until things began to settle down between ThunderClan and ShadowClan so that he'd be granted a safe escort back home. Their weary clan had thankfully suffered no casualties and reconstruction of their camp was taking priority.

 

At one point the former medicine cat threw her head back and laughed, "Oh, this is rich, y'know what else has been going on since you've been knocked out?"

 

Curious, he tilted his head. Taking that as a notion to keep going Yellowfang continued, "So I absolutely have not been bragging about your treatment skills for Bluestar lately, but since your little trip to the moonstone, a good amount of warriors and even a few apprentices have come by; they ask me and Spottedleaf for quick lessons!"

 

She paused, "Oh, by the way, Whitestorm is even worse at patching up wounds with cobwebs than you are, and I think Runningwind is just naturally scatterbrained. He tried to give me dock leaves for a bellyache!" Firepaw laughed along with Yellowfang, even though he didn't quite remember the right herb for a stomach ache either. It was the thought that counts. Mostly.

 

Firepaw tries to stand once more. Yellowfang snaps at him to stop before inspecting his wounds gently, nagging at him for his horrendous sense of self care, "I swear to StarClan you can take moons off of my lifespan sometimes."

 

Snickering at the comment, Firepaw responded, "It's a talent of mine."

 

"Yeah, a terrible one."

 

Throughout the rest of their conversation he was half paying attention and half zoning out. During a particularly quiet lull in their talk Firepaw asks, "Yellowfang, do you miss ShadowClan?"

 

That seemed to catch her off guard. Yellowfang hesitates, "I.. I miss what it used to be. Before, well-"

 

"Brokenstar became leader?"

 

"Yeah," She admitted softly, her prickly and usually cranky demeanor dropping and being coupled with a more tired and affectionate tone, "He changed the clan. Always knew how to give a good speech."

 

Yellowfang snorted and continued, "Could make you believe a mouse was a rabbit if he set his mind to it. Maybe that's why I couldn't see just how corrupt he'd grown. If I had just noticed sooner. If I were just a better mother."

 

She stared into the distance, out of the medicine den and into the camp clearing where cats were milling about sharing tongues as the sun was directly overhead, "Then again, you already know all of this, don't you?"

 

Firepaw shrugged, "Telling me about this for the purpose of me knowing isn't important, anyways. It's you getting to finally vent about what's been hurting you that's important. Talking about what's troubling you can make life just that much easier sometimes, believe it or not."

 

"Cheeky kit."

 

"Stubborn oldie."

 

"You're one to talk."

 

Firepaw allowed there to be a quiet moment of silence, letting the leftover tiredness wash away. Of course, he had to break this silence when he remembered a particular cat at the last Gathering, "Hey, you'll never guess who the new ShadowClan medicine cat is."

 

"No _freaking_ way."

 

They gossiped amicably for a good amount of time. Enough time for the sun high in the air to be traded with the moon's cool light. Firepaw somehow managed to convince Yellowfang that he could sleep in the apprentices' den that night. Reluctant to allow him out of her sight, as if the moment he wasn't physically nearby he'd be able to injure himself again (which wasn't actually all that exaggerated to be fair), Yellowfang suggested he at least roll in wild garlic before he left.

 

"Your friends might hate you for a few nights, though!" She snickered as Firepaw left the den with Graypaw there to help him. Graypaw sent him a look that basically screamed, _dear StarClan no._

 

As they walked together towards the entrance of camp, Darkstripe slid in front of the ravines, effectively blocking them, "What do you two think you're doing?"

 

"Well Yellowfang told me-"

 

"Oh no, you don't take orders from that _rogue!"_ The word "rogue" rolled off of his tongue similarly to how one would hiss a slur, fully intending to mimic one. Firepaw narrowed his eyes, fully intending to protest before Graypaw led him away to avoid an altercation.

 

"Don't worry about Dickstripe over there, he's just pissy. There's a hole in the back of the apprentices' den because of ShadowClan; It's not too fortified yet."

 

Firepaw walked beside him pelt to pelt, thankful that Graypaw prevented him from trying to rip Darkstripe a new one. Bluestar likely wouldn't take kindly to that, after all. He spared a glance at his friend, wondering how he got this mature over the span of the few days he was gone. Maybe he'd never know.

 

Ravenpaw was patching up the walls on the apprentices' den when they arrived, his ears tilting slightly at the sounds of their footsteps before he turned around excitedly, "Firepaw! You're awake!"

 

He purred while nuzzling Firepaw, careful not to jostle or bump any wounds while he eagerly greeted them. Graypaw scoffed at the display playfully, though seemed a millisecond away from joining in himself before pausing, "Wait! Onion!"

 

"Uh, onion…?" Ravenpaw stared questionably.

 

"Yellowfang told Firepaw to roll around in an onion patch to help his wounds. Look forward to a smelly den for the next few days." He gently cuffed Firepaw around his untorn ear as the ginger batted the paw in retaliation, "Darkstripe is being annoying, per usual, so we're gonna sneak out through the hole in the den. Wanna come?"

 

Ravenpaw gave it some thought, "Wish I could, but who would keep watch while you're away?"

 

Firepaw shrugged, "I should be okay by myself, as long as I take it easy."

 

He was immediately met by two unimpressed stares. _Yikes, really guys?_ Graypaw shook his head as if he were about to scold a kit and Ravenpaw sent him a sympathetic glance, "What? I mean, I can walk just fine."

 

"Dude, you literally had to lean on me to walk across the clearing. Give it a rest and take the help." At Graypaw's last comment, Firepaw nearly laughed at the irony of it. That's what he told Yellowfang and Tigerclaw before. Stubborn cats sure flock together in this clan.

 

"Alright, alright!"

 

Forgetting about a lookout, the three apprentices slipped out of the den and into the forest. When they neared the large patch of wild garlic, Firepaw quickly paused, "Quick, hide, I think I smell Darkstripe!"

 

Graypaw groaned, "Oh no, I don't want to listen to another clan lecture. C'mon, we can grab some garlic and make it back into the apprentices' den."

 

A shifting gaze between the three, and they all knew that the troublesome trio wouldn't be doing that. Instead, Ravenpaw, Graypaw, and Firepaw dove into the nearest bush and eavesdropped on the approaching three cats. Darkstripe, Longtail, and Tigerclaw!

 

There was a feeling of tensing muscle coming from next to Firepaw. Eventually the other cats neared their hiding spot so the three could hear their hushed conversation.

 

"Now that Lionheart is injured, you've practically been acting as deputy! You're perfect for the job- don't get me wrong, Lionheart is a decent cat, but he's just so soft!" Darkstripe readily indulged Tigerclaw. It didn't seem as if the obvious flattering was effective, however.

 

He snapped quickly, "Who would want to be deputy? I'm just filling in until Lionheart is well enough to run this clan with Bluestar; why else would I save him?"

 

Darkstripe visibly recoiled, as did Firepaw and Ravenpaw. Tigerclaw… doesn't want to gain leadership power? Is that why he's been so off-beat lately? Firepaw gritted his teeth, willing his body not to burst out of its hiding place to question the cat right there and then. Maybe later, but for now quiet was key. Darkstripe seemed to recover quickly, laughing the matter off, "Y-yes, being a deputy is just so much work, isn't it? And you'd become such a target to other clans."

 

Tigerclaw's amber eyes narrowed angrily, "I have to agree with you, Darkstripe. What about you, Longtail?"

 

The unusually quiet tom glanced up from his stupor and nodded defaultly, "O-of course, yeah! It's such a, ah, pain." Once the attention had seemingly averted from him, Longtail zoned out of the conversation once more. His posture and stiff tail displayed obvious discomfort.

 

"StarClan and the warrior code too, they're both…!" Tigerclaw snarled, seemingly furious about something yet a quick glance between Graypaw and Ravenpaw indicated that neither knew what he was aggravated about. Before getting carried away, Tigerclaw stopped himself. He sniffed the air.

 

"Funny… Darkstripe, you said no one would be out tonight, yes?"

 

And that was their cue to scramble out of there. As quietly as possible, Ravenpaw, Firepaw, and Graypaw snuck back to the apprentices' den and completely forgot about collecting the garlic. Out of the three, Graypaw spoke first once in the comfort of their own den.

 

"LionClan above, what the heck was _that?"_

 

Ravenpaw trembled, wanting to be anywhere but there at the moment, "Oh StarClan, I don't understand! I thought he'd want to be-!"

 

"Not to interrupt the group nervous breakdown over there, but some of us are trying to rest." A quick jab from Sandpaw shut the cats up quickly, yet there was an unspoken agreement between the three of them.

 

_We'll talk later._

 

No one was able to sleep quite properly after that. Instead of resting, Firepaw assisted in patching up the apprentices' den despite his friends' protests. Ravenpaw's nerves were still slightly haywire, but he managed to settle down soon enough. In the middle of passing twigs to to him for sealing up any loose spots, Ravenpaw spoke, "Firepaw, now that you're awake and stuff, can I- can I just see you for a sec?"

 

Quizzically, he nodded and allowed himself to be led to a more secluded and hidden area of the camp. Ravenpaw took a quick glance around and leaned in, whispering, "I know this is pretty late, but you said something. At the gathering, I mean."

 

Firepaw laughed, it seemed surprisingly genuine for how much he forced it out, "Oh, you mean that! I just didn't want you to get caught up in your story when the leaders were speaking."

 

Instead of accepting this as a fact and letting the matter go, Ravenpaw narrowed his eyes and flattened his ears slightly. He didn't look hostile, but instead emitted more of a demanding feeling. Firepaw was proud that his friend was confident enough to confront his companions about whatever was bothering him, but also nervous considering that one of said issues involved his greatest deniability.

 

"I know I'm jumpy and I'm anxious, that causes everyone to think I'm dumb. B-but what I lack in confidence I make up for with my mind! Firepaw you're my friend, so don't lie to me, okay? I know you know something big."

 

***

 

"Firepaw, jeez, settle down! You're causing my bones to ache by just looking at you pacing. So you're telling me that Ravenpaw is catching onto you?"

 

He nearly screeched in frustration but held back the gross noise, "Oh man, oh _no,_ Yellowfang what do I _do?_ He's going to figure out and then- and then, I dunno- something! I shouldn't have thought he'd just forget, Ravenpaw's always been really smart! Of course he'd suspect something-"

 

Firepaw's restless padding was halted by a swift paw batting his forehead and forcing him to sit down. In the seclusion of the clearing after dark, Yellowfang was currently subject to the unfortunate panic of a ruffled up apprentice. He had asked Ravenpaw for a bit of time before answering his questions and immediately burst into the medicine cat's den for help. Turns out he just ended up waking a groggy Spottedleaf, and Yellowfang was actually still sleeping in her usual spot.

 

"Well kit, like they say in ShadowClan: You've one too many toads on a log."

 

Firepaw paused, "Wha- ShadowClan actually says that?"

 

"Nah, I was trying to quiet you down and see if you'd actually believe me," Yellowfang snickered at how gullible her favorite apprentice was, "Listen, Ravenpaw is your friend, right?"

 

She rolled onto her side, comfortably watching Firepaw's thought process through his facial expressions and tail twitches. He immediately nodded.

 

"Of course, he's really important to me." Memories of fighting side by side and reluctantly saying goodbye to Ravenpaw when he joined Barley at the farm filled Firepaw's thoughts. They didn't have nearly as much time together as they should have.

 

Yellowfang sighed, resting her tail tip on his shoulder in a knowing gesture, "Then give him some faith. You trusted me, right? And have you regretted that since then?"

 

Firepaw deadpanned, "You literally ask me what the weather is going to be like every day."

 

"Other than that!"

 

It takes a moment, but Yellowfang eventually squeezes an honest response out of him. With a breathy giggle he replies, "No, I haven't."

 

She laughs, it's full of scratches and graveled with age, still managing to be genuine and pleasant to hear, "Then I think you already know the answer, kit."

 

He purrs. Yeah, he did.

 

Morning arrives and Firepaw stiffly wakes up, feeling obvious discomfort in his muscles from falling asleep outside. He stretched before wincing. _Looks like it's time to visit Spottedleaf again._ Making his way to her den, he was pleased to see Lionheart finally awake. The golden tabby was resting outside the medicine den's entrance, catching the sun's rays in his pelt and nodded his head in greeting, "Firepaw! Good morning, my boy. I've heard stories from Spottedleaf about you and Tigerclaw's actions the other night."

 

His pelt fluffed up slightly, flustered with the praise, "Oh, thanks. Also congratulations on a full recovery, it's nice to see you awake."

 

Lionheart chuckled, "Likewise. You're on your way to see Spottedleaf, right?"

 

Firepaw nods.

 

"Well, when you're in there, can you talk to her? She seems awfully restless today. I would myself, but the truth is that I'm quite terrible at offering comfort when I don't know the other very well." He admitted, surprising Firepaw. In his eyes, Lionheart was always such an admirable warrior with little fault. Sort of like those warriors kits hear stories about in the nursery.

 

"I will, thanks Lionheart!" He mewled, waving his tail as a quick parting gesture and bounding inside of the den. True to his word, Spottedleaf was pacing around in her space. She occasionally stopped and attempted to sort her herbs before realizing that she had already done so. Firepaw frowned.

 

"Spottedleaf? Are you okay?" At first she froze, whipping her head to face Firepaw in surprise before realizing who was speaking to her. She laughed, though it seemed too breathy and shaky for it to be in any sort of form a comfort.

 

"Firepaw! What do you need?"

 

He frowned, unwilling to divert the subject so quickly when it was obvious that Spottedleaf was this upset, "Uh, just asking if you were okay. You seem really jumpy and distracted."

 

Instead of bothering to deny his claim, the medicine cat simply sighed in resignation, "I think StarClan is trying to communicate with me, but their messages are more frantic than usual. It all ends up in this big jumble and my head hurts." She winced, apparently overstimulated by the distressed warnings and messages, "Either way, I think it's bad, but none of it is making sense."

 

Disheartened by his lack of ability to help, Firepaw opted to give support, "Spottedleaf, you'll be able to figure this out. It'll be okay!"

 

Despite this, he himself was unsure of what to do. He wanted to help her, but what should he do? What _could_ he do? Being so useless in his previous life had been one of Firepaw's greatest regrets. It seems as if Spottedleaf noticed the conflict in his voice and gave him a dubious stare.

 

"I appreciate your efforts, but this is just something I have to figure out on my own." She sighed, distancing herself from the apprentice's attempts, "Now, what did you need help with? Poultices?"

 

Throughout the treatment of his wounds, Firepaw remained deep in thought as did Spottedleaf, generating a quiet and somber environment. She patched him up and sent him off before freezing.

 

"Wait! Before you leave," Firepaw winced unconsciously, was Spottedleaf going to tell him about his own failed prophecy again? Apparently not, "Before you leave, I need a quick favor."

 

Confused by the change in pace, Firepaw tilted his head, "What's the favor?"

 

She was quick to provide, "So obviously you and I both know Bluestar isn't going to force you to go to training today. Since the battle with ShadowClan, my herb stores have become pretty pathetic too. I need a helping paw in carrying herbs!"

 

Pausing and letting a certain silence hang in the air, she added, "Plus, I think we both could use a day out of camp."

 

His answer was pretty predictable.

 

So was the expected taste of herbs in his mouth. Outside of ThunderClan fortifications, Spottedleaf snorted at Firepaw's scrunched up face that twisted in distaste, "What did you expect? Stuff's gross."

 

In his jaws were just about twenty marigold leaves and dock stalks. In this state, Firepaw couldn't talk without risking accidentally choking on the herbs. So instead, he narrowed his eyes as much as possible to the point of the other cat laughing at the comicability. They continued to gather herbs in a similar fashion, taking several trips back into camp. Spottedleaf rambled throughout their trips, Firepaw attempting to convey as much as he could without the use of his voice.

 

At one point, Spottedleaf was gathering cobwebs from an old bush, carefully wrapping them around a stick clenched around her own jaws. Despite this, she still attempted to speak anyways, "Y'know I'm happy you wanted to be friends with me."

 

Firepaw, who currently also had a stick of cobwebs in his teeth, indicated that he was listening by lifting his head. She continued, "ThunderClan is amazing, and I love our clanmates and I love my job as a medicine cat. It, well, wasn't my _first_ option at the beginning, but I grew to love it."

 

She set the stick against a tree once it was fully wrapped and began to wrap another, "But there aren't many cats who really go beyond that weird level of medicine cat and warrior relationship- And not that kind of relationship, I mean the sort of respected acquaintances kind of relationship. Like, I want to know about the dumb thing that happened earlier in the warriors' den too, and I want to be able to make inside jokes with my clanmates too!"

 

He didn't know she felt so strongly about wanting to be- "I just want to be seen as a potential friend instead of some higher deity. It sounds silly, right? And in the grand scheme of things I suppose it's irrelevant too. But.. have you noticed ThunderClan growing a little more disjointed lately? It's like no one wants to trust each other. I want to sorta mend that."

 

Another nod. She laughed, "I'm rambling, huh? Well either way, I think it's just about time to make our last trip back to camp anyways. We have enough supplies to last us a million moons, the sun is already setting!"

 

Firepaw saw Spottedleaf gather the rest of her supplies and begin trekking back to the direction of camp, flicking her tail for him to follow. She purred, "This little herb hunt was really helpful for clearing my head, thanks for doing this for me, Firepaw. I know I talk often, and maybe I spill a little too much of what's in my head, but sometimes you just have to!"

 

She turned around once and gave him an appreciative glance that said, 'Thank you for listening to me.' Knowing what was to come, the little apprentice grew a massive determination.

 

_Spottedleaf, I'll make sure you'll be okay._

 

He felt like he could keep this promise.

 

***

 

Dusk washed the camp over in gentle purple hues. Progress was being made to the stronger camp, den walls nearly complete in repairs and preparations. As they entered the ravines and dropped their things off, Firepaw was slightly disappointed by the lack of fresh kill in the pile.

 

Passing by, the preparing evening patrol which included Dustpaw and Sandpaw approached. Dragging along behind the patrol, Dustpaw fixed Firepaw a look before muttering lowly, "Just check behind the apprentices' den. I didn't say anything."

 

With a confused glance at Spottedleaf, who shrugged back, he bounded to the spot in question. Lo and behold, a saved mouse. The medicine cat peered over his shoulder and let out a little 'ooooh!'

 

Firepaw picked it up, surprised at Dustpaw's consideration. Looks like he was getting through to him after all. It smelled amazing, "Feel like sharing a mouse?"

 

That got her excited, "Thanks, I was starving!"

 

While they ate, Spottedleaf purred, "He's totally sweet on you."

 

Firepaw paused, "Who?"

 

She rolled her eyes, "Dustpaw! Did you finally beat him into his senses on that trip to the Moonstone? It doesn't take a genius to know that you two had some hostility towards each other before, but now it seems like you guys are closer," Pausing to take another bite, "Or at least, you're not going for the other's throat anymore."

 

He snorted, "Maybe."

 

"Oh, speaking of apprentices, Ravenpaw's looking pretty anxious at you right now. Did you do something?" At this comment Firepaw scolded himself. He had totally forgotten to talk to his friend!

 

"Ah, mousedung! It slipped my mind while we were getting herbs! You can have the rest of my mouse Spottedleaf, I have to go talk to Ravenpaw about something."

 

Hearing her mewl goodbye, Firepaw skidded to a halt next to Ravenpaw, fur sticking up. Before he could speak, the ginger apprentice let the words spill out of his mouth.

 

"I'm sorry for avoiding you! I've been gathering herbs with Spottedleaf all day but I promise I'll answer all of your questions right now." He practically word vomited his regret until Ravenpaw effectively shut him up. Though, it was Ravenpaw, so he shut him up in the most gentle way possible.

 

"Firepaw you don't have to keep going, I understand. Can we talk somewhere outside of camp?" With a relieved nod, Firepaw followed him to a more secluded area.

 

After a quick look around, both cats confirmed that there was no one else there to eavesdrop. Sitting down, Ravenpaw nervously shifted sand between his paws, "So, what's up?"

 

A very unimpressed look from Firepaw later he huffed, "Well, how else would you want to start this type of conversation? Singing?"

 

StarClan, it was so tempting to burst out singing about how he knew Tigerclaw was evil, but just about 99% of himself knew that Ravenpaw wouldn't really appreciate that. Also, Firepaw sucked at singing. Instead, he opted to start with a more reasonable claim and let trust work its magic from there.

 

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain right off the bat. Y'know, uh, tree branches?"

 

His rambling about his travels to an entirely new timeline stretched into the death of dusk, moonlight shining on the two cats. One who's main problem was finding a way to convince the other and one who's main problem was finding a way to believe him.

 

"So what I'm picking up from this is, uh, you're sort of Firepaw number two?" Ravenpaw's inflection of voice was one of dubious questioning which Firepaw himself couldn't blame him for at all. It was surely a lot to take in, and Yellowfang hadn't really believed him until just a few days ago.

 

He gently shook his head, "No no, I'm still me. Just the same me in the past." Realizing this was just proving to be more confusing, he rethought his wording and explained again. Silverpelt shined above them as even more time passed between different explanations and different attempts to understand just what the heck Firepaw was trying to convey.

 

It took just about an hour or two until Ravenpaw finally stopped him, "I think I understand now, sorry for making you go through that so many times. So what you're saying is… you know Tigerclaw killed Redtail. But only because you found out in a previous timeline? And because things ended so badly in that last timeline, you're back here again to prevent that?"

 

"It sounds really dumb, but yeah. The only proof I have is what I know and how much you choose to believe." He admitted, doubtful in how trustworthy he sounded. Even Ravenpaw seemed uncertain, more comfortable in asking Spottedleaf to give his friend mental treatment than readily accepting this proposition of such things as time travel and direct StarClan intervention. If he were Ravenpaw, he'd be feeling the exact same.

 

"I'm going to be honest, I don't really believe you," Part of Firepaw deflated though he understood, "This story is sort of insane. There are three ancient cats in StarClan? You know the future, and how we're all gonna die?"

 

In retrospect, even more of his story seems silly. He opened his mouth but Ravenpaw interrupted him, "O-oh, sorry were you gonna speak-? Wait, no, I cut you off for a reason!" He took a breath, "I can't believe you, not yet at least. But how else would you have known about how Redtail really died?"

 

He hesitated before persisting, "And who else would I talk to?"

 

The progress was tentative, but Firepaw was appreciative that Ravenpaw was able to accept this much. He didn't expect the other to so readily believe something like this anyways; if so he'd probably be concerned. But it was the little steps that built trust to mountains.

 

With a better grasp on their friendship, the two cats tread back into camp. It was far too late, and they had enough sleep to catch up on.

 

… So of course, a mere two hours later, four idiot apprentices sprint out of their dens in the middle of the night.

 

It happened suddenly; Firepaw, Ravenpaw, Graypaw, Sandpaw, and Dustpaw practically dead to the world through sleep. A single large spider managed to creep its way onto Ravenpaw's nose, causing him to sneeze and blearily wake up.

 

Looking around the den, he closed his eyes once more before realizing the source of his irritation was currently resting on his face. With a scream, he jolted fully awake and jumped around the den, shaking his head wildly to dislodge the spider. The rest of the apprentices woke easily enough, groggy and annoyed by the sudden waking. Graypaw in particular groaned, "Ravenpaw? What's up, it's super late."

 

His answer came from a spider hurtling into Firepaw's side. Eyes resembling large moons, he scrambled up from his nest, "Dear _StarClan-!_ **Mousedung!** Every apprentice for themself!"

 

"Wait, no! Graypaw don't leave me!" Firepaw cried out, shaking his pelt from the spider.

 

"Sorry, buddy!" Was the only response.

 

Dustpaw grabbed his scruff and both clambered out of the den, Firepaw heaving a breath, "I owe you my life."

 

"Don't make it weird."

 

"Okay, half a life. Also, did you just abandon Sandpaw?" It seems that Dustpaw just realized that for himself as he whipped his head around to face the apprentices' den. While the group made a racket, ThunderClan began to slowly wake. Yellowfang and Mousefur in particular were nearly rolling on the ground, holding absolutely no laughter back from the temporary chaos.

 

"What on earth is with all this noise?" Tigerclaw growled, stomping towards the four loud apprentices, "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?"

 

"It was a matter of life and death!" Graypaw protested, Ravenpaw and Firepaw offering him immediate support. A short rustle from the den revealed an absolutely furious Sandpaw, safe and sound with the large spider in her paw. Her gaze screamed murder and caused her denmates to shrink back slightly.

 

"Uh, no? No, it wasn't. It was a big spider in the middle of the night and it seems like I'm the only apprentice here that actually isn't a baby kit."

 

After a short break in conversation, Dustpaw mewled, "Last night you needed Runningwind to tell a story for you to fall asleep-"

 

"Watch it, Dustpaw. I'm the one with the spider." She waved her paw, effectively shutting him up.

 

Tigerclaw simply stared, "You're all baby kits! Regardless of who did it, every single one of you foolish apprentices played a part in waking the entire clan at this ungodly hour! Do you have any idea how juvenile these antics are? Each cat here is going to face punishment in the morni-"

 

Sandpaw threw the spider at Tigerclaw. He immediately hissed, jumping and hopping in an attempt to throw the spider off of his body. She sighed, "Since we're all awake and since my denmates are idiots, let's go visit Brindleface's new kits. If any one of you causes another commotion, I think I'm going to use your fur as bedding."

 

A unanimous agreement caused five apprentices to approach the nursery. Firepaw was excited, evident through the little skip in his walk. Kits were so cute!

 

Whitestorm sat outside of the den, guarding the entrance, "You five here to see the new kits?" He laughed at the response of nods, all eager to see the little kittens.

 

"Well one at a time only, guys. Bluestar's in with them right now and she's- oh wait, there she is." Bluestar emerged from the den, nodding her head at the apprentices and Whitestorm.

 

"I heard quite a racket earlier. Was that you five?"

 

Whitestorm guffawed at their sheepish expressions, "You know it."

 

Their leader sighed, yet it sounded more like a laugh than anything, "Well, you're lucky that you didn't wake the kits. They're sleepy enough." She bid them farewell and walked back into her den.

 

Eventually the group decided Firepaw would enter first, being the one most anxious to see them. He squeezed through the nursery entrance after receiving permission from Whitestorm and was greeted by the sleepy faces of four healthy kittens.

 

"How are you feeling?" He greeted Brindleface, the queen startled as if just seeing him. She settled down easily enough.

 

"Tired, but the kits are strong and healthy." She beamed at them in pride. The little bundles of fur squirmed slightly, flopping in their bedding.

 

"Have you decided on names?" Firepaw asked, receiving a nod in response.

 

Brindleface touched her nose to a kit with dark gray flecks on ashen fur, "This is Ashkit," A kit with a similar pelt but with a more streamline pattern in dark gray, "Finchkit," A kit with a solid dark pelt, "Smokekit," And the last kit who was similar to Ashkit yet was the only she-kit in the group, "And Fernkit."

 

Firepaw waved his tail, happy to finally put names to the kits, "ThunderClan's lucky to have them."

 

A single wandering kit, Smokekit, strayed from Brindleface and moved towards Firepaw. As he reached down to say hello, the queen flinched and nudged him back to her with her tail. Taking the hint, Firepaw dipped his head in thanks and emerged from the den; anxiety growing in his stomach.

 

"That was quick. Were they cute?" Graypaw mewed, only gaining a clipped 'yes' in response. Rather than sticking around, Firepaw made himself scarce. A stone suddenly dropped in his gut. Speaking of scarce, where was Spottedleaf? Frantically searching around, he soon grew into a state of near panic. Luckily it seems as if no one was behind the nursery yet.

 

He soon found that his answer was currently stretching, padding out of her den. Firepaw skidded towards her, stopping in front of the surprised cat, "Spottedleaf!"

 

"Uh, yes Firepaw?" She responded. Internally he let out a breath. In the midst of the earlier events, he nearly forgot about this day's events.

 

"Do you want to go hunting?" He blurted, looking for any excuse to avoid the possible confrontation with Clawface in camp. She was momentarily stunned.

 

"Now? Before dawn?" Upon searching his face, she must have found something that had convinced her, "Well, alright. Just tell someone where we're going, okay?"

 

He beamed, alerting Runningwind that they were going hunting before rushing himself to the camp entrance. Spottedleaf laughed, still mildly puzzled but otherwise amused, "Slow down! The mice won't abandon the forest."

 

Firepaw laughed, embarrassed. It was true, but he was just nervous. Spottedleaf stretched her legs comfortably, purring, "I haven't been hunting in ages! Where do you want to start?"

 

Before he could respond, the expression on Spottedleaf's face changed. She quieted his inquiries with a gentle lift of her tail and narrowed her eyes into small slits. The forest roared from rolling gusts of wind, lifting leaves and carrying scents along with its breeze. One familiar yet hostile scent made itself more apparent than the rest.

 

Turning to face Firepaw once more, she was horrified, "ShadowClan is sneaking into camp."

 

As she began to sprint back into camp, Firepaw yelped, "Wait!"

 

Spottedleaf whirled, lashing her tail in impatience, "Firepaw, what do you mean by _wait?!_ Those scents were fresh; they could be attacking right now!"

 

"Because it's not safe there!" He blurted, soon regretting his poor choice of wording. When he finished the sentence, Spottedleaf fixed him with a look of disbelief.

 

"Firepaw, you're better than this," She hissed, "It will _never_ be safe! That's what clan life is about and that's why we have to protect each other! Because none of us are ever really safe!" Without waiting to hear Firepaw's response, she sprinted into camp.

 

He followed as fast as his legs could possibly push him forward.

 

Stumbling over his feet, Firepaw heaved as he went around the camp entrance, towards the break in the walls where the back of the nursery was unprotected. Sure enough, Spottedleaf and Clawface hissed, aimed to strike for their aggressor at any given moment. The ShadowClan warrior carried the scruffs of Frostfur's kits in his mouth, whose eyes were wide with fear.

 

Thoughts flew through Firepaw's mind at a rapid pace before he settled on direct action, jumping on the enemy's back and refusing to let go. In his struggle, the kits were taken away by Spottedleaf who quickly looked back and forth, fumbling to alert another warrior yet her mouth was occupied by carrying the fragile bodies of Frostfur's kits.

 

Clawface's sheer size was enough to dislodge the apprentice, spinning and slamming his back onto the ground to immobilize Firepaw. He yanked Spottedleaf back by the scruff and away from the possible view of her clanmates into the shadows of the space behind the nursery. Firepaw struggled to his feet, reaching his claws towards Spottedleaf from where she frantically raked her own against the flank of Clawface. In an attempt to alarm the other ThunderClan cats, he was suddenly dismayed by his inability to speak; his throat closed up from the harsh blow.

 

Before either ThunderClan cat could take a breath, a sickening snap accompanied the silence.

 

Clawface growled, dropping the body onto the ground and stepping over it to inspect the clean break, "I don't have time for this. Just two are good enough." He grabbed the two kits that Spottedleaf had dropped from her mouth and barged past Firepaw, dragging him by the neck until his smaller body rolled onto the forest soil.

 

Slowly the smell of ShadowClan faded in strength. Firepaw remained on the ground for a moment longer before choking, coughing up last night's food onto the ground. He shakily stood from the soil and in a stunning moment of clarity, suddenly registered the single realization of 'I failed.'

 

He knew what would happen yet he still wasn't able to change it.

 

Blood roared through his ears, frozen to the spot yet heart pumping quickly and harshly like it was about to beat itself into freezing completely. He distantly acknowledged the faint cries of Frostfur.

 

"My kits! Someone has taken two of my kits!"

 

"Quick, search the camp!"

 

"Yellowfang is gone!"

 

 _He broke his promise._ Surprisingly, his face remained incredibly still, mind blank from the haze of grief overwhelming him. If he were just a bit smarter and less selfish; instead of solely focusing on saving Spo- his friend, and was more focused on keeping everyone safe and Clawface away from the camp entirely. The wind picked up its gusto, cutting through his pelt and into his skin as thunder clapped and roared from overhead. Firepaw trembled, suddenly feeling like a freezing kit again; utterly exposed and vulnerable- but vulnerable to what he was unsure. Kicking the internal whirlwind of unease and blame aside, he shook his head. No, there wasn't any time for that sort of thing anymore. Especially not right now.

 

Yowls of outrage were left behind him as Firepaw struggled towards the ShadowClan border in an attempt to preserve what he still could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> until next time! 
> 
> ...
> 
> firepaw, speaking to shadowclan cats at a later gathering: uh so haha y'know what they say! too many toads on a log!  
> shadowclan, also laughing: hahaha yea of course.
> 
> later in shadowclan: do they actually say that in thunderclan. am i missing something.


End file.
